


Operation: Unfamiliar Feelings

by danakate



Category: NCIS: Los Angeles
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-23
Updated: 2012-08-23
Packaged: 2017-11-12 17:05:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 35,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/493645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danakate/pseuds/danakate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Callen is on a deep cover operation and circumstances require Nell to join him as his alias's wife. As the case progresses, both parties begin to find it difficult to separate the cover from reality, and maybe they don't want to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue and Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** These characters belong to CBS, Paramount, et al. No copyright infringement is intended.
> 
> The title is a reference to the Season 3 episode “Neighborhood Watch,” where Kensi and Deeks go undercover as a married couple and Hetty warns them that doing so may bring about some “unfamiliar feelings.” I figured it was appropriate for Nell and Callen as well. Timeline wise, this story takes place sometime in Season 3, but before “Neighborhood Watch” and the finale. General spoilers for the show, but nothing really major (I don’t think).
> 
> Rated for language, violence, and adult themes.
> 
> Special thanks to **live_brave** for the beta services.
> 
> Written for the Het Big Bang 2012 challenge.
> 
> Fabulous [art provided by **whogate**](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Het_Big_Little_Bang_2012/works/497505).

_San Diego, CA  
5:15pm_

Outside an average looking house, a plain, black sedan pulls up. A man, dressed in a sharp, black suit, steps out of the car and slowly looks around the area. He leans against his vehicle, flipping his keys around the key ring on his finger.

Another car, same as the first, comes around the corner and parks across the street. G Callen emerges, dressed much like the first man. His face is devoid of expression, jaw set.

The two men don’t speak, but walk towards the house. They bypass the front door, heading instead to the rear of the building.

“You want me to come in with you?” the first man asks.

“I can handle this, Burke,” Callen replies.

Burke nods and leans on the wall next to the back door. Callen knocks and a middle-aged man answers.

“What do you—“

Callen cuts him off, pushing into the house, door slamming behind him.

Sounds of a scuffle can be heard through the door. Burke, the picture of serenity, continues flipping his keys. Abruptly, the noises inside the house stop and Burke pauses. Three suppressed gunshots echo faintly through the door and Burke nods, flipping his keys once more.

A moment later, Callen steps outside. “It’s done.”

“Need any help with the cleanup?”

Callen shakes his head once.

Burke shrugs. “Good. See you tomorrow.” He offers a casual wave before heading back to his car.

Callen watches his retreating form for a few seconds before heading back into the house.

* * *

_6 months earlier_

Deeks is the first to ask when 11am rolls by and Callen still isn’t there. “So, where’s Callen?”

Kensi checks her watch. “Huh, he’s never this late.”

Sam just grunts and settles deeper in his chair, not looking at either of them.

“Do you know something?” Deeks asks, suspicious.

Before Sam can answer—or ignore the question—Eric whistles for them. Sam is the first one up the stairs to Ops.

As they all gather, Eric surveys the group, confusion in his eyes. “Where’s Callen?”

Deeks’s eyes narrow when he sees Nell quickly look away. “Hey, how come Sam and Nell know, but we don’t?”

“Because Mister Callen’s whereabouts are ‘need to know’ and you do not,” Hetty answers, striding through the automatic doors.

“And Sam and Nell do?” Kensi asks, voice indignant.

Eric has a slightly hurt look on his face as he eyes Nell, but says nothing.

“I only know that he was called away on a special assignment so I can take over the lead agent role while he’s gone,” Sam admits.

“I was only told what I needed to know to backstop his new alias,” Nell adds.

“And that is sufficient for all at this time,” Hetty says.

“How long will he be gone?” Deeks asks.

“As long as it takes, Mister Deeks.” Hetty levels a look at the LAPD detective that stalls further questioning. “Now, I believe Mister Beale has a case for us.”

Eric nods and starts tossing pictures up on the big screen.

* * *

Callen’s first day at his new job is pretty typical: paperwork and security forms. The latter is somewhat ironic since he’s there to take a security position, but really it just means even more forms to fill out. Every time a background check and personal reference comes back accepted, he sends a silent thanks to Nell for backstopping his alias so well in a short amount of time.

By lunch, he’s thoroughly tired of signing his new name—mostly electronically—and is sent through a maze of halls to meet his new boss.

“Come in,” a female voice answers when Callen knocks on the office door.

In the office, he sees a middle-aged woman with long, straight black hair sitting at a modestly sized, contemporary desk. Her brown eyes flick to his before going back to her monitor.

“Please, have a seat. Just give me a moment to finish this up.”

“Take your time,” Callen says. He uses the opportunity to observe.

The woman has a fair complexion and wears a minimal amount of makeup. She’s dressed in a tailored black suit with a light blue dress shirt. Other than a simple wristwatch and a wedding ring, she wears no other jewelry.

The room is typical of an office, but there are no windows. The walls are bare with just a couple security-related certificates, a company award, and a large plastic frame with a map of the building on it. The map has a bit of its edge sticking out and Callen thinks maybe it’s been recently changed.

The desk has a couple neat, short piles of paper and two tablets. There’s also a picture frame that’s angled slightly and Callen can just make out a middle-aged man and two young children—a boy and a girl.

With a soft sigh and a firm mouse click, the woman pushes her keyboard away and gives Callen her full attention.

“You must be George Chapman. I’m Terri Zimmerman, the Site Security Officer. Welcome to  
Assets of the Future.”

Callen sits forward and shakes Zimmerman’s outstretched hand. Her grip is firm, but not overpowering.

“A pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Zimmerman.”

“Please, call me Terri.”

Callen nods. “Then call me George.”

Terri clasps her hands in front of her. “I have to say, it’s quite the coincidence that you were looking for a position just as we had one open up.”

Callen shrugs. “I guess I was in the right place at the right time.”

“Mmm. I wish I could say the same for Justin Tiller.”

Callen tilts his head to the side. “Is he the one who left?”

Terri nods. “Although, not voluntarily. He was involved in a pretty severe car accident. The doctors say he’ll be out of commission for a couple months.”

“Ouch,” Callen winces. “I guess I shouldn’t get too comfortable, then.”

“On the contrary,” Terri assures. “We’ve needed to hire more qualified personnel for a while. Justin’s situation just put added pressure on the timeline. Trust me, we’ll have more than enough work for both you and Justin by the time he returns.”

“Good to know.”

“George, I know we just met, but I hope you’ll indulge me…”

“You want to know why I left a cushy government job for a relatively new company?”

Terri smiles. “Quick on the uptake and straightforward. I like that.”

Callen grins. “I’d ask the same thing. Why leave a nice, stable job after so many years for one that is likely to have some, shall we say, interesting times ahead?”

Terri nods again.

Callen clasps his hands in his lap and pretends to mull over the question as if looking for the right words. “Let’s just say the cushy job was getting a little too cushy. I’ve been following this company since it made its debut in the small business defense industry. Landing a high profile Navy contract less than a year after being founded is no easy feat.”

“And you wanted a new challenge?”

Callen smirks. “Call it an opportunity to shape and affect change from an earlier stage. Direct government work doesn’t give you that chance.”

“And your family?” Terri’s eyes flick towards his wedding band.

Callen has been making sure to twist the platinum ring occasionally, as if it was new to him. It is, of course, but showing it is more important for selling the George Chapman back story.

“My wife—Norah—and I are newly married,” he says. “A new job for a new life together.”

Terri smiles amiably. “Is she here?”

“Not yet. I have a house back in the DC area. She’s handling the last of the packing and selling the property while I look for a house. She should be out here in a month at the longest, hopefully sooner.”

“It must be tough on the both of you.”

“We manage,” Callen says, making his smile just a little tired.

“Well, I’m sure we’ll get to know each other in the coming days,” Terri says, standing. “Why don’t we get you settled and I’ll give you a tour of the place and an idea of what you’ll be doing.”

“Sounds good.”

Terri hands him one of the tablets from her desk and keeps the other for herself. “This is yours. You’ll have a desktop, too, but the tablets have all the data you’ll need to navigate the building. It connects wirelessly to the company intranet—heavily encrypted, of course. Let’s take a walk.”

“Lead the way.”

“Oh,” Terri stops just outside her office. “No personal cell phones. You’ll get a company-issue one tomorrow.”

Callen nods. “The man at the front desk, Alex, already told me. He has mine.”

Terri nods in approval and starts walking again. “Good. Some employees leave theirs in their car or even at home, but we do have one designated room for personal use with lock boxes.”

“I’m surprised, given the sensitivity and nature of the work.”

Terri grimaces. “HR told us we had to give the employees something, because their jobs are stressful enough as it is being pretty much cut off while in the building.”

Callen ponders. “They’re all _Words with Friends_ addicts, aren’t they?”

Terri barks out a laugh. “You don’t know the half of it.”

* * *

Late in the evening, after most of the personnel have left, Hetty Lange walks into the bowels of the OSP facility and navigates to one of the few rooms that have no surveillance devices in them. She steps in, quietly closes the door behind her, and locks it.

In the center of the room is a chair and table, an answering machine placed in the middle, its red message light blinks steadily.

Hetty takes a seat and presses the playback button. Callen’s voice echoes, sounding tinny in the small room.

_“Hi, honey. The first day of work was typical: forms and more forms. Nothing too interesting happening, but it is the first day. I plan on looking at some houses this weekend—expect pictures. Anyway, I gotta run. Love you.”_

The message ends and Hetty nods slowly. The operation is going exactly as planned, but she’s worried. She has no doubt Sam and the rest of the team will adapt, but she’s more concerned with Callen.

Hetty, more than anyone, knows Callen likes to work alone. But he’s been with NCIS, been with a real _partner_ for more than five years now. She isn’t sure it was the best idea to send him in alone and not brief Sam as to the nature of the operation.

Director Vance and SECNAV had been adamant: the fewer people who knew about the mission, the better. But Hetty has a plan—she always has a plan.


	2. Chapter 2

The first week undercover is uneventful. Callen suffers through some extremely boring new employee compliance training and mentally reminds himself this is why he hasn’t changed jobs in recent years. His duties as part of the security team are light and he takes the opportunity to learn the building inside and out, as well as observing the employees and their habits.

The second week, he’s paired up with another security officer: Michael Burke. Callen immediately doesn’t like him—Burke is arrogant and a bit of a bully—but he makes nice with the man, hoping to ensure Burke leaves him alone.

“You done with all that new employee bullshit?” Burke asks when they first meet. “I don’t know why they bother with that stuff.”

Callen scoffs in agreement. “Yeah, really. Then again, it’s government work and government work is all about ‘cover your ass’.”

“You’re telling me. Well, now we get to do the real fun stuff.”

“Why do I get the feeling you’re being sarcastic?” Callen muses, eyeing Burke suspiciously.

“Because I am. We have a pile of potential security violations and new protocols to go through, see where we might have holes.”

“Sounds exciting.”

“Just another day in paradise, buddy.”

Investigating potential security violations involves interviewing the engineers and Callen grits his teeth at Burke’s methods. He’s unnecessarily condescending and there’s at least one moment when Callen thinks he should intervene, but he doesn’t because he needs to understand the company dynamics and disturbing things now, so early in the mission, isn’t a good idea.

Needless to say, Callen intends to make sure Michael Burke’s personnel file is among the first things he liberates from the company databases to send back to OSP.

Getting access to information is easy. Moving it elsewhere—and undetected—well, that’s another story. Luckily, Hetty thought of everything, and in addition to creating his new life story, Nell also put together a field guide for transferring data in ways that are not easily discovered.

Callen decides to start off small, in case there are other safeguards in place his current tools don’t find. He takes pictures of the neighborhood around his temporary housing and embeds his pay statement information in the data stream before sending it off to his “wife.” It takes a little time, but is easy enough.

The third week, Callen sees his first suspicious event. When he arrives at work Monday morning, there’s an impromptu meeting happening just inside the security wing.

“What’s going on?” he asks, addressing Terri.

She’s clearly uneasy, standing ramrod straight with her arms crossed. “One of our data analysis engineers, Rick Wiles, has gone missing.”

Callen has to stop himself from immediately taking charge. Here, he’s not the team leader. He’s not even second or third on the list. So, he waits to see what happens and does the tasks he’s given.

The news isn’t good for Rick Wiles. Local law enforcement finds his body in the ocean three days later, a suicide note in his car.

The company holds a memorial and offers grief counseling. The atmosphere, especially on the floor where Rick worked, is understandably somber.

Callen isn’t totally convinced, though. Sure, Rick’s passing is unfortunate, but Callen has his doubts. One of the reasons he’s on this operation is because of a significant number of “unfortunate accidents” and “suicides” that have happened at Assets for the Future. The company is barely two years old and doesn’t have a large workforce, yet they’re losing, on average, an employee every three months.

There isn’t much of an investigation into Wiles’s death, but Callen pulls what information he can on the man and what he was working on, sending it back to OSP for analysis.

* * *

Nell Jones is drowning in work. Her day starts before dawn and, more often than not, ends long after the last employee has left the OSP facility. In fact, she can’t remember the last time she left work the same day she _got_ there. Not only is she supporting their regular case load, but she’s doing data analysis for Callen’s operation and it’s taking way longer than she ever anticipated.

The latter is especially tricky, because she keeps having to disappear when she has a moment to look at whatever files have come in from him. She can’t use the Ops terminals or her normal workstation on the main floor because she’s the only one allowed to see the data.

She feels guilty every time she leaves Ops. She knows Eric is curious, but he’s smart enough to know not to ask because she can’t tell him what she’s doing. It still makes her feel bad.

There’s a lot of information and, thankfully, much of it has to be decoded before she can do anything with it, which means she can setup an automated task and not have to babysit the data transfers. Unfortunately, it also means when she gets the time to work on the operations, there’s usually a giant pile of data to sort through.

Callen is extremely thorough and careful. The data he sends back isn’t always in one piece, often spread across multiple files such that even if someone were to snoop around, they wouldn’t be able to figure out what it is he’s doing. It’s smart thinking, but it also creates more work for her. There’s only so much that can be automated and sometimes Nell spends hours just piecing back together the right bytes for one file.

By the fourth week, Nell has fallen behind. She’s desperately trying to catch up, but she also has to be careful not to cross-contaminate her tasks. Callen’s mission, as well as their normal cases, is too important for her to screw up.

* * *

Eric strolls into Ops early one evening and is surprised to see Nell at her workstation. Normally, at this hour, she’s off doing whatever it is she does for Callen’s super secret mission in some undisclosed location in the facility. Not that he’s tried to find her. Nope.

He’s about to call out to her, see if she wants to grab a bite to eat (he knows she’ll say no—lately, she always says no), but he notices something isn’t quite right.

Nell’s sitting in her chair, but has her left arm on the table, her head leaning on her hand. She’s usually pretty good about proper posture, so Eric’s surprised to see her basically disregarding everything with respect to sitting in an ergonomically correct way.

As he watches, he notices that she starts moving further and further left. At the last moment, when Eric’s sure she’s going to fall over, Nell jerks up and looks around in surprise. That’s when she notices him.

“Oh, Eric, what’s up?”

He frowns and purses his lips as he processes what he just saw. “Did you just nap jerk?”

She stares at him. “Nap jerk?”

“Yeah, you know, catch yourself right as you’re about to fall asleep and wake up suddenly?”

“What? Oh, no, no. Uh, nope. Not me. Yeah, no.” Nell pauses, an odd look crossing her features. “I’m going to stop talking now and, uh—I gotta go.”

Eric watches in mild fascination as Nell grabs a laptop and leaves Ops, only to walk right back in, swing around the main table, pick up a notebook and pen, and then leave once more.

“Huh.”

* * *

Marty Deeks isn’t usually the first one of his teammates at work if only because he likes to catch some morning waves if he can. But, some days—like that day—the surf isn’t kind and he’s strolling through the archway earlier than usual.

No one else is in the bullpen and, despite knowing better, he still checks to see if anything is different on Callen’s desk. There isn’t, just like there hasn’t been every day since he left.

As he puts his day bag down, Marty notices someone is on the lounge couch. Peeking around the corner, he’s surprised to see Nell sprawled on it. He’s about to call out, to wake her, but he notices just how tired she looks even though she’s sleeping.

“Hey, Deeks, you’re in early,” Kensi calls behind him.

Marty whirls around and puts a finger to his lips before checking to see if Nell woke. She hasn’t.

Kensi frowns at him in confusion and moves to stand by him after she puts her bag down. “What are you—oh.”

“I think she spent the night,” he whispers.

“Those are the clothes she wore yesterday,” Kensi quietly remarks. “You know, she has been working an awful lot lately.”

“Let’s give her a few more minutes,” he suggests, backing away from the lounge.

“Wanna spar?” Kensi asks when they’re well out of earshot.

He nods and they make their way to the gym. By the time they’re done, a good hour later, Nell’s gone, but Marty is still concerned. He makes a mental note to talk to Hetty.

* * *

It’s six weeks after Callen’s undercover operation started, but if you asked her, Nell couldn’t tell you if it had been six days. She can’t remember ever being this tired, not even at the peak of graduate school. She’s almost too tired to be tired.

They’re in Ops and Eric is briefing the team on their latest assignment. Nell’s staring at the big screen, attempting to focus. In fact, she’s trying so hard she completely misses it when Eric turns the briefing over to her.

“Nell?”

Belatedly, she realizes she’s being addressed. “What? Oh! Sorry, I got distracted.”

Blinking rapidly, she looks down at her tablet and tries to remember what it was she was supposed to say.

“The phone records?” Eric supplies helpfully.

“Right. That.” Finally, her brain seems to engage and she launches into what she found earlier that day.

She’s surprised when Sam puts a hand on her arm. “You okay, Nell?”

“I—what?” Glancing around the room, she can’t figure out why they’re all looking at her funny.

“You were kinda swaying on your feet,” Sam says.

“I was?”

Hetty suddenly appears in her line of vision, seeming to materialize out of thin air beside Sam.

“Miss Jones, would you please wait for me down in my office?”

“But, I’m not finished,” she protests.

“I think we have enough information from you right now.”

“Oh, okay. Um, sure.”

Nell puts her tablet down on her workstation and leaves the room as requested, but not without several glances backwards and wracking her brain to figure out what she did wrong.

* * *

When Callen checks his phone at lunch, he’s surprised to see a text from “Norah,” his wife. He’s even more surprised by the message.

_”Have you found a house, yet?”_

Clearly, Hetty believes the case will take a while longer, which isn’t entirely surprising. He’s not sure what her plan is for the “wife” situation, though. At some point, his colleagues are going to wonder who this mystery woman is and why she won’t move to be with her husband—and why there aren’t any pictures of her, of them.

Shrugging, Callen pockets his phone and pulls out his personal tablet, navigating to the various photos of houses he’s taken over the past six weeks. Of course, he took them so he could attach data to them, but if NCIS was going to buy a house, he may as well try to find one he actually likes.

Flipping through the pictures, he settles on one he found a couple weeks prior. He remembers the neighborhood was fairly quiet and the drive to the office wasn’t too bad. The house itself has a good layout and a reasonable price as well. Selecting the picture, he e-mails it back.

_”How about this one?”_

* * *

Nell has to admit she’s exhausted and just sitting in a chair is nice, even if it is in Hetty’s office, which seems a lot like the principal’s office at that moment.

A few minutes later, Hetty arrives and takes a seat across from her. She’s eyeing her critically but Nell can’t seem to muster the energy to really care. She’s tired and she has a mountain of work to do, not to mention the backlog of data from Callen’s mission which seems to grow by the minute.

“Miss Jones, I have to apologize.”

Nell blinks in surprise. “For what?”

“For putting you in your current situation.”

“I don’t follow.”

Hetty just nods, then picks up her phone. “Mr. Deeks, could you join me in my office, please?”

“What does Marty have to do with this?” Nell’s confusion grows by the second. Hetty says nothing until Marty arrives.

“What’s up, Hetty? Hey, Nell—whoa, you’re still swaying? Are you okay?”

“Mr. Deeks, would you be so kind as to drive Miss Jones home?”

“What?” Nell exclaims. “What for? I have so much to do, Hetty, you know that.”

“You are exhausted, Nell. Sooner or later, and I suspect in this case it will be sooner, your fatigue is going to catch up with you and mistakes will be made. It is inevitable.”

Nell looks to Marty for support, but all she sees is concern in his eyes. “Do I really look that bad?”

Marty grimaces. “I’m afraid so, Nell-Bell.”

“But, what about the case load?” she objects. “Or, uh, that other thing.”

“We can and will manage. Now, go. Get some rest.”

Dejectedly, Nell stands. “I promise I’ll be as good as new tomorrow.”

“No.”

Nell pauses. “No?”

“You are not to return to work for three days, Miss Jones. Do you understand?”

“But—“

“Go!” Hetty says, making shooing motions. “We can survive until Monday.”

Nell blinks. “It’s Thursday?”

Hetty levels her with a look. “My point exactly, Miss Jones.”

Marty pats her on the shoulder. “C’mon. You’re not winning this one anytime soo—well, ever, really.”

Defeated, she lets herself be led away. “Thursday? What the hell happened to Tuesday? I swear it was Tuesday.”

“If you thought it was Tuesday, you missed Wednesday, too,” Marty supplies.

“Well, yes, Marty, thanks. But, I mean, I really thought it was Tuesday.”

As soon as they get into Marty’s car, Nell starts to feel the fatigue.

“You gonna be okay?” he asks.

“Huh?”

Marty gives her a grin. “You look like you’re about to pass out and while I’d be okay with that, I think your neighbors would find it a little odd to see you being carried home by a strange man in the middle of the day. Thursday, that is.”

Nell rolls her eyes. “Yes, I get that it’s Thursday now. I’ll be—“ She’s cut off by a jaw-cracking, huge yawn. “—fine. Wow.”

Marty chuckles. “Let’s get you home, Nell.”


	3. Chapter 3

Nell sleeps for 18 hours straight. When she wakes up, it’s Friday morning and she feels like death warmed over. Groaning, she drags herself out of bed to the bathroom. She splashes water on her face, but when she really looks at herself in the mirror she’s shocked at what she sees. There are dark circles under her eyes which contrast greatly with her pale skin.

“Geez, no wonder Hetty sent me home. I look like crap,” she mutters.

Stumbling back to her bed, she checks her phone out of habit. She has a text from Marty time-stamped an hour ago.

“ _Good morning, sunshine. Don’t come to work. Also, it’s Friday._ ”

She rolls her eyes before firing off a highly mature response.

“ _:P_ ”

Nell flops face first back on her bed, seriously debating going back to sleep. Her phone buzzes in her hand.

“ _Nice. How are you feeling?_ ”

“ _Like ass._ ”

She can practically hear Marty laughing. Grinning, Nell stretches and rolls over, flinging an arm over her eyes. Maybe she’ll just close her eyes for another few minutes.

When Marty’s next text arrives, her phone is on the floor and Nell is fast asleep.

* * *

Despite protesting the need for time off, Nell does get some necessary things done. Other than sleeping, that is, although she gets a whole lot of that accomplished as well.

Laundry – check.

Dishes – check.

Sort mail – check.

Pay bills – ugh, check.

By the time Monday morning comes around, she feels almost normal again. She’s just settled in at work when Hetty summons her.

“Ah, you look refreshed, my dear.”

“Thanks, Hetty. I feel better.”

Hetty nods and pours a cup of tea for them both.

“So, what did you want to see me about?”

“Actually, I wanted to see you,” another voice chimes in from behind her.

Nell turns to see the newcomer. “Director Vance.”

“Miss Jones,” he acknowledges with a nod. Vance takes up a stance on Hetty’s side of the desk.

“Is something wrong?” Nell asks, suspicious. Her eyes narrow when Vance and Hetty share a look.

“We’ve underestimated just how much data analysis is needed on Agent Callen’s current assignment,” Vance states. “As such, we feel that we should provide him with more dedicated support.”

“What exactly is he working on?”

“Assets of the Future,” Vance explains, “is a new player in the defense contracting business. They’re a Small Business Innovation Research program and they’ve managed to win a proposal for the Navy’s Vertical Launching System on surface ships.”

Nell raises an eyebrow. “Does the Navy think someone was showing favoritism during the award process?”

“They’re concerned, to say the least,” Vance answers. “The Navy likes to keep the market competitive by periodically re-competing key programs, that part isn’t suspect. Awarding a weapons system to a nearly brand new company, however, is.”

“So, what’s NCIS’s involvement?”

“There are no obvious signs of misconduct, but SECNAV and the DoD have asked NCIS to investigate matters. OSP was specifically requested since weapons systems are most definitely an issue of national security, especially if there’s a chance it’s been compromised.”

Nell purses her lips, thinking of the possibilities. “So, you want me to work his case exclusively?”

“Yes,” Vance answers. “And, in person.”

“I—what?”

“You’re joining Agent Callen on assignment,” Vance clarifies. “Is there a problem?”

“Uh, in what capacity, Director?” Nell asks. She can feel panic start to bubble up in her chest. They want her to do what?

Hetty reaches into her drawer and pulls out a small card and hands it to her. It’s a driver’s license with her picture on it. Nell drops it on the ground when she reads the name.

Norah Chapman.

Nell simultaneously looks to Hetty in surprise while reaching down and trying to retrieve the fallen card.

“I’m not an undercover agent, Hetty. I haven’t been trained for this.”

“Yes, my dear, I am aware. But your role will be similar to what you are doing now.”

“What Hetty means is that we don’t expect you to work like an undercover agent or even a field agent,” Vance adds. “We expect you to resume your role as an intelligence analyst, you’ll just be doing so directly with Agent Callen.”

“Does he know this?” Nell practically squeaks.

“He will soon enough,” Vance answers.

“But—I—How—I don’t know what to think,” Nell stammers.

“We feel you’re the right one for the job, Miss Jones. Having you focus entirely on this mission by being there seems the most efficient way to get this case closed,” Vance explains.

Nell still can’t believe what’s happening. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“Leon, perhaps Miss Jones and I should have a private discussion on the specifics.”

Vance nods. “Sounds like a good idea, Hetty. Miss Jones, I’m sure you will excel in this assignment just as you have with all your other work.”

* * *

Two hours away, Callen gets a text message from his “wife’s” number. But this time, instead of just the name “Norah” as the ID, there’s also a picture. He almost drops his phone in shock when he sees it’s Nell.

“What the hell?”

It takes him a few moments to recover and when he does he reads the message.

“ _See you in three days, honey!_ ”

“What the _hell_?!”

* * *

“Hetty, there has to be some other way,” Nell blurts out once Vance leaves. “Why me? And if it has to be me, can’t I just work the case from here?”

The older woman sighs and closes her eyes for a moment. “I assure you, Nell, Director Vance and I have gone through this many times. You are already familiar with the case, you will just now be fully read into it. As for working from here, can you honestly tell me you would be able to focus on this case—and this case only—without being asked to support the others, even casually?”

“I—I guess not. But—“

Hetty puts a hand up to forestall any further protests. “I understand this must be very confusing for you and if we had the time to do this properly, you would be better prepared. But, right now, this the only avenue open to us. If an opportunity arises to bring you back, we will.”

Nell wrings her hands and chews on her bottom lip. “How, exactly, am I supposed to act?”

“Just as you are,” Hetty replies with a smile, sitting back in her chair. “As Director Vance said, you are not expected to behave as if you are undercover. You are not trained for that kind of task, but you _are_ trained to be an intelligence analyst and that is what you will do. Leave the undercover work to Mr. Callen. It is his specialty.”

“But, Hetty, I’m supposed to be _married_ to him,” she hisses, looking around and hoping no one has heard her.

“Miss Jones, marriage is not a disease or something to be ashamed of.” Hetty leans forward and clasps her hands together, leveling Nell with a serious look. “Mr. Callen will coach you on the specifics. Follow his lead. He knows you are not a field agent and I am certain he will take that into consideration.”

Nell is fast running out of ideas to get out of this situation. She doesn’t like it when she can’t control things, especially her life, and this is definitely not an “in control” kind of moment. She opens her mouth a couple times to try a new tactic, but the excuses die on her lips as she realizes she just can’t get out of it. So, she tries to focus on the important details.

“So, when do I, uh, go meet my husband?”

“Three days.”

“What about my—“

“Your apartment, mail, bills, and other essentials will be handled.”

Nell nods. “What do I tell my parents?”

“Ah, that is a good question.”

Nell’s hopes rise and then are immediately dashed.

“We are also sending with you some special equipment for your new home that will provide a secure line not only back here, but to a select few other locations. You communicate with your family quite often, do you not?”

“Yes, we Skype weekly.”

“Mr. Beale has some programs already available to handle such things. That part of your regular life does not change, just your physical location.”

Nell gasps as another thought pops up. “Eric! What about Eric? I can’t just leave him hanging.”

“I am certain Mr. Beale can handle an elevated workload while you are on assignment and we have other personnel that can assist if needed.”

Nell deflates a little.

“Also,” Hetty continues, “you need to be prepared for meeting Mr. Callen.”

“What do you mean?”

“The undercover lifestyle is a difficult one. Switching between one’s real life and cover is not recommended as it can become too easy to mix the two.”

“So, don’t break Callen’s cover?” Nell asks.

“It’s more than that,” Hetty explains. “Do not expect Mr. Callen to always act like the man you work with here. You created his alias, you know the kind of man George Chapman is. It is imperative you keep that in mind. Mr. Callen cannot afford to misstep in his role as George Chapman.”

“Oh, okay.” Nell is quiet, processing what Hetty has just told her. After a long moment, she sighs. “Well, I guess it’s settled, then.”

Hetty gets up from her desk and walks around to Nell, putting a hand on her shoulder.

“Nell, my dear, if there were any other way, believe me we would be pursuing it. I don’t like sending any of my staff anywhere without the proper training. But these are extenuating circumstances and this opportunity is too sensitive to delay.”

“I understand.” And she does, she’s just really uncomfortable and nervous and downright scared. “I’ll do my best.”

“I know you will.”


	4. Chapter 4

Two days after he finds out his alias has an actual wife, a moving van shows up at the house he apparently just bought. He’d received instructions after the mysterious text which included the address of the house he’d picked out just days before. NCIS must have negotiated the world’s fastest closing.

The moving company is, of course, a front. The movers are NCIS agents and he’s not surprised to see a familiar face: Sam. Callen meets him halfway down the front walk.

“Mr. Chapman?” Sam asks, referring to his clipboard.

“That’s me,” Callen replies. “Why don’t we go inside and I can show you where everything goes?”

Of course, the NCIS “movers” already know where everything goes since they’ve had the layout of the house as well as all of his fake things longer than him.

Once inside, the personas fall off and Callen and Sam regard each other.

“Don’t even—“ Callen starts.

“You put on some weight, G?” Sam cuts in. “This civilian life must be making you soft.”

“Missed you too, big guy.” Callen replies, glaring at the other man. “Did you get read into this?”

Sam shrugs. “Not so much, but Hetty wanted me to come out and give you some files personally.”

Callen takes a manila folder from Sam and starts flipping through the pages. Meanwhile, the movers have brought in several boxes and some of the agents have started unpacking.

“Man, I wish I had all this help when I moved into my last place,” Sam muses. “You don’t have to lift a finger.”

Callen looks up and nods his head in agreement as he watches the efficiency of the crew doing the moving and unpacking. And then his eyes land on the fireplace mantle. “Oh, my god.”

He walks over to it and there are pictures already up.

“You and Nell make a cute couple.”

“George and Norah.”

“What?”

“That’s not me and Nell,” Callen says. “That’s George and Norah Chapman.”

There’s a wedding photo, what looks to be a honeymoon photo, and various other photos of Callen, Nell, and people he assumes are friends and family.

“This is kind of creepy,” Callen muses. “It’s amazing how well these photos are manipulated together.”

“You mean you guys didn’t plan this out beforehand?”

Callen’s head whips around and he meets Sam’s gaze. He realizes his partner feels left out and thinks he planned the mission with someone else. “What? No. I found out two days ago I have a real wife.”

Sam seems to relax a little bit. “Huh, they did a pretty good job, then. So, how are you going play this?”

“How do you mean?”

“With Nell—excuse me, Norah.”

“I haven’t figured that out, yet,” Callen admits. “It’s hard enough being undercover. It’ll be even harder being undercover with someone else who hasn’t ever been undercover.”

“Much less married to her.”

“There’s that, too.”

There’s a lull in the conversation and Callen notices Sam giving him a look. “Spit it out.”

“If you hurt her…”

Callen rolls his eyes. “I’ll save you the trouble and beat myself up.”

The moving and unpacking lasts for most of the rest of the night. Callen gets dinner for the crew and as they pack up to leave, Sam has just one more barb to throw at him.

“See you whenever, G. Take care, man. And lay off those donuts.”

Callen glares and gestures rudely at Sam as he leaves.

* * *

Nell pulls up to her new house mid-afternoon the next day. She turns off the car, but doesn’t get out. She’s trying not to freak out. For the entire drive from Los Angeles, she’s run the gamut of emotions. She’d hoped to arrive feeling “calm,” but her mind is stuck on “nervous wreck” instead.

“You can do this,” she tells herself, letting out a deep breath. “It’s just Callen. At least you know him. Except Hetty said to expect him to be different because he’s being someone else. You’ve seen him do this before, although not on a long term assignment. But it’s still Callen. Right?”

She looks up at the house and, as if summoned, he’s on the front porch. She can’t read his expression, but he nods to her when their eyes meet.

“Right. Okay, let’s do this,” she mutters, trying to psych herself up.

Nell steps out of her car and walks up the path to the house. She’s completely unprepared for what happens next.

Callen meets her part way and literally sweeps her off her feet. Nell can’t help but gasp in surprise, clutching at him. He spins her around and sets her down so her back is to the house. And then he locks eyes with her, tilts his head slightly, and leans in very, very close.

“Play along, we’re being watched,” he whispers. He’s so close his lips graze her cheek and Nell reacts involuntarily, wrapping her arms around him.

One of Callen’s hands is on her waist, the other is tangled in her hair. She very nearly has a heart attack when she feels his lips at the corner of her mouth. That’s when Nell realizes he’s trying to make it look as if they’re passionately embracing without actually doing so, not that it helps her inner turmoil at all.

Without warning, Nell finds her feet are no longer touching the ground again. Callen has scooped her up in his arms and is striding purposefully towards the house. The front door is slightly ajar and he nudges it open all the way and crosses the threshold. Kicking the door closed, he turns again and sets her down. She looks up at him, and although he practically has her pressed up against the door, he’s not looking at her; he’s looking through the peep hole.

Callen finally does look down at her and, seeming to realize just how close he is, quickly steps away. Nell is suddenly unsure what to do.

“Welcome to our new home.” He’s looking at her expectantly. “You okay?”

Nell nods, temporarily unable to speak.

“How about a tour of the house?” he says, turning away. “I’d say give it 20-30 minutes before we get whatever other things you have in your car.”

“Sounds good,” she manages.

She’s grateful for the distraction, because she’s pretty sure she’d just be standing there like an idiot if left to her own devices.

* * *

Callen takes Nell through the house, starting with the upper floors and ending in the basement. All the while, Nell is quiet and he’s sure she’s adjusting to her new life. _He’s_ still adjusting to his new life.

He’s done undercover assignments with other people before—hell, even with a wife—but this is different. Nell isn’t an undercover operative; she isn’t even a field agent. Sure, she’s a highly trained intelligence analyst, but he’s pretty sure undercover operations weren’t part of her NCIS training plan. 

He’s only had a couple days to figure out how he’s going to work a fake relationship into his assignment and he isn’t really any closer to a solution than he was before.

“Is this our mini-Ops?” she asks, as they walk down the basement steps.

“Yes, this should be something you’re more familiar with,” Callen supplies, gesturing at the setup.

The basement is partially finished. The stairs are untreated wood, but there’s hardwood on the floor and the utilities are in their own room. There are no windows, though, which makes it ideal for their needs.

The mini-Ops consists of three workstations and a small server rack. There’s a space for Nell’s personal laptop, too, and an area with a backdrop that looks remarkably like a regular room.

“All of the files I’ve already sent you are here as well as the tools you’ll need. We do have a secure line back to Ops, but Hetty advises we don’t use it unless absolutely necessary.”

Nell nods. “That makes sense. If we’re being watched or monitored, it’d be a little suspicious to have an open line back to Los Angeles, even if it is encrypted.”

Silence falls between them and the elephant in the room seems to grow larger by the second. They both speak at once.

“So—“

Callen tilts his head towards her. “You first.”

She doesn’t speak immediately and he frowns slightly as she starts to fidget and play with her hands as if she doesn’t know what to do with herself. “Well, um, how do we do this?”

“This?” He knows exactly what she’s talking about, but Callen needs her to talk about it specifically because their relationship, fake or not, is extremely important to the mission.

“Us,” Nell says, pointing to him and then her. “Our marriage. I mean, I get that we need to maintain a relationship for your cover but, uh, I don’t really know how to do that. I mean, I’ve never been married so I don’t have any experience. And I know you have, even though it didn’t turn out well. And—I’ll just stop talking now.”

Callen’s lips twitch at her rambling and he steps forward. His eyebrows go up when she takes a step back.

“Nell, I’m not going to bite.”

“That’s another thing,” she continues, but not looking at him. “Hetty said that going between cover and non-cover is a bad idea but I don’t really have a cover—other than a new name—and you do. Do I call you ‘Callen’ when we’re alone? Do I call you ‘George’? Or ‘dear’? ‘Honey,’ perhaps?”

Callen puts his hands on his hips and tilts his head up to look at the ceiling, a smile playing on his lips. Oh, this will be interesting.

“I think,” he starts, “if you’re going to be calling me by a name, it’ll be best if you always call me ‘George’.”

“And you’ll call me ‘Norah’?”

He nods. “Hetty’s right, it’s difficult enough maintaining a cover. Switching between real and fake names can cause problems, especially if you mess up.”

“Okay.”

“As for pet names, well, that’s up to you,” he remarks with a grin. “Let circumstance dictate that.”

Finally, a real smile shows up on Nell’s face.

“Don’t get too carried away,” he warns.

She chuckles, but the levity doesn’t last. Callen frowns when a serious look crosses her features.

“Something else on your mind?”

“How—how do we, uh, there’s no easy way to ask this,” she hedges.

“So, ask.”

Nell looks him right in the eye. “How are we going to act in our marriage?”

Callen steps forward again, but this time when Nell takes a step back he quickly moves ahead and catches her with a hand on her shoulder. “First of all, you’re going to have to stop running away from me. People might think you don’t like me.”

Nell looks up at him in surprise. “I—sorry, I hadn’t realized I was. I guess I just wasn’t expecting you in my personal space.”

Callen nods. “I won’t invade your space any more than I have to and if we need to be a little more personal, like earlier when we reunited, I’ll try to tell you so you at least have a little warning. Also, you have to tell me your boundaries.”

“Boundaries?”

“The way we interact,” Callen explains, gesturing between them. “This is real, even if our marriage isn’t. Like with any relationship, you have to tell me if I do something you’re not comfortable with.”

“Oh, okay. Um, you too, then. Although, I can’t really think of anything of the top of my head,” Nell replies.

“I don’t like it when people are behind me,” Callen supplies.

“I don’t like crowds,” Nell immediately responds. “Huh, I guess there are some things I know I don’t like.”

Callen smiles. “We all do, we just don’t call them out all the time.”

“I guess that makes sense. So, uh, what about public displays of affection?”

“Never been a big fan of it myself,” Callen answers. “Today is an exception, of course. I think it would have seemed odd if George had greeted Norah with anything other than a passionate embrace, don’t you? After all, husband and wife haven’t seen each other in weeks.”

“Oh, I agree completely. I just wasn’t, you know, expecting it.”

Callen steps back, introducing space between them. “This will be interesting, to say the least. It’ll probably be uncomfortable at times, too. We’ll both have to adjust, but most importantly, we have to communicate. We can’t afford not to.”

Nell nods in understanding. “And, one more thing. Where do we, um, sleep?”

Callen grins slightly. “This is where my own habits come in. The master bedroom is all yours.”

“Er, you’re not going to sleep there?”

“There’s a study next door, I’ll sleep in there. Well, when I sleep, which isn’t often.”

“I’ve heard the stories,” she admits.

“I’ll try not to bother you in the wee hours of the morning.”

Nell smiles at him and things start to feel a little more normal, which is amazing since the situation is everything but.

“So, what now?” she asks, clapping her hands together. “Should I get back to the data you’ve gathered?”

Callen shakes his head. “That can wait. You just got here. Let’s get the stuff out of your car and you can settle in. We’ll take a walk around the neighborhood, later.”

“A walk? I think I’d like that.”

Callen flashes Nell a smile as he ushers her upstairs. “What kind of husband would I be if I didn’t show you the neighborhood?”


	5. Chapter 5

The first night, Nell doesn’t get much sleep. She’s in an unfamiliar house and bed, and there’s someone else there. She hears Callen bumping around from time to time and while it’s clear he’s trying to be quiet, she still wakes up.

Sure, she’s had roommates before, but Nell’s been living on her own for a couple years now. She’s not used to having someone else around and it shows in highly embarrassing ways.

The first morning, because she can’t sleep, she goes downstairs to the kitchen as Callen’s getting ready for work. She attempts to be Norah sending George off. It works pretty well until he actually leaves with a parting line of: “And you should probably put some pants on.”

Realizing she’d only been wearing a sleep shirt and underwear, Nell at least understands why Callen spent all but a few moments intensely studying the newspaper. That doesn’t stop her from wanting to crawl in a corner.

Similar things happen throughout the week. Twice, she’s abruptly had to shut the bedroom door while she’s changing when she hears Callen coming down the hall. And one night, for some reason, she felt the need to check the stock of tea in the cabinets right after a shower, so she did—in nothing but a towel. Callen was, at least, gracious enough to turn away and let her scurry back to the relative safety of the bedroom.

But, despite having to figure out how to live together, Nell does really well on the work front. That first day, she makes a lot of progress and silently acknowledges Hetty was right. There’s no way she could have gotten through the same amount of data at OSP without being interrupted. In fact, she feels so good about what she’s able to do that she stops a little early and decides to make dinner for them.

* * *

Callen parks in the driveway but sits in the car for a moment. Today’s the first day he returns home to someone waiting for him. He has to admit he’s been wondering how this fake marriage to Nell—Norah—will play out. He hasn’t had to think too much about what kind of husband George is. 

So far, his professional side is nothing special. George is dedicated, loyal, and hard working. Personally, though, George is as much a mystery to Callen as he is to Nell. But, he knows George is a good man and his professional qualities would stem from his personal ones.

Stepping out of the car, Callen hauls his satchel from the backseat and enters the kitchen from the garage. He doesn’t expect to see Nell waiting for him and the dinner table full of food. She’s bouncing on the balls of her feet, clearly waiting for some response from him. The only one he can muster at the moment is confusion.

“You made dinner?”

Nell nods and the smile on her face falters. “Is there a problem?”

“No,” he answers quickly, kicking himself for his initial response. He hadn’t meant it to sound as if he disapproved. “I just wasn’t expecting it.” He hesitates. “You know, you don’t have to play the part of a housewife.”

“Oh, I know. But, I figure, we both have to eat, right?”

Callen thinks about that for a moment and nods. “Yeah, you’re right. Let’s eat.”

Nell smiles brightly as they sit down. “Am I allowed to ask you how your day was?”

“You can ask whatever you like,” he replies, digging in. “As for my day, it was nothing special. Since Wiles’s death, things have been pretty quiet, actually. I don’t have too much to add to your workload today. Were you able to make progress?”

“Yes! Well, yes and no.”

He tilts his head in question.

“I was able to work through a lot of the backlog of data you had,” Nell explains. “Having uninterrupted time is proving to be a greater asset than I’d originally thought it would be. But there still isn’t too much to tell. Sometimes I think I’m on to something and then it just leads nowhere. Whatever is going on there, these people are good, or very patient, or both.”

Callen nods. “That’s my thinking, too. The employee loss is a pretty significant anomaly, but there’s nothing that really points to foul play. It’s entirely possible that the deaths have been completely coincidental.”

“You don’t sound convinced,” she remarks, eyeing him critically. 

“I don’t like coincidences.”

“Fair enough,” she replies with a shrug. “So, what’s the new stuff you brought me?”

Callen hands her a thumb drive. “More financial transactions. NCIS is convinced something shady has been going on, or very soon will be, so I think the more patterns we can establish the better.”

“I agree. I’ll get started on this after dinner.” She rises from her seat and starts grabbing dishes.

“Let me help you with that,” Callen offers, also rising.

Nell waves a hand at him. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve been staring at data and monitors all day, I need something normal to do.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yep!”

Callen watches her for a moment before heading upstairs to change out of his work clothes. By the time he gets back downstairs, Nell’s nowhere to be seen and he wanders down to their mini-Ops to check on her.

He has an excuse all ready in his mind, that he’s just there to read—which is also true—but she’s so absorbed in what she’s doing that she doesn’t even acknowledge his presence. So, Callen stays quiet, not wanting to interrupt her just to tell her he’s not there to interrupt her, and settles down in the big stuffed chair in the corner with one of his many books, feet propped up on the foot rest.

As the minutes tick by, Callen finds he can’t help but watch Nell as she works. He doesn’t really have a chance to interact with her much at work; most of the time she’s feeding him information through the phone or an earpiece. Part of him kind of wonders what Nell Jones is really like and, given her alias isn’t an alias at all, he allows himself this slight guilty pleasure of observing her in her natural habitat, so to speak.

Music plays quietly from one of the workstations and Callen’s lips twitch when Nell starts humming along. It isn’t consistent and she’s doing so softly, but he’s amused all the same.

He outright grins when she starts talking to herself. It isn’t really a conversation, mostly snippets of thoughts that make it out of her head. Things like: “What in the world?” “Hmm, what does this mean?” “I wonder…” And it’s not that he’s laughing at her, because he knows he does the same thing. Sam has definitely called him out on muttering to himself during the course of a case or, more often than not, when they’re hanging out in their off time.

It’s when she starts leafing through file folders repeatedly that he decides to make his presence known.

“Looking for something?” He tries not to speak too loudly, but of course nothing he could have done would have made her not jump.

“Holy—when did you get here?” she asks, hand to her chest.

“About an hour ago. You were absorbed in what you were doing so I didn’t interrupt you.”

Nell stares at him, eyes wide. “Have you been watching me the whole time?”

He raises his book at her and he has made some progress, even though he’s spent the last half hour or so studying her instead.

“Oh. Well.” She clears her throat. “I had some handwritten notes somewhere, but now I can’t find them.”

“Want some help looking?”

She shakes her head. “Nah, they’ll turn up, but I mostly remember what it was.”

Callen nods his head slowly. “You know, maybe you should take a break. You’ve been working all day, there’s no sense in you working all night, too.”

Nell turns to look at her monitors and then looks at him. “I guess you’re right. Some of this has to go through pattern recognition algorithms anyway.”

“Good. There should be just enough daylight left for a walk. Want to come?”

Nell narrows her eyes a little and for a moment he’s pretty sure she’s analyzing him.

“We took a walk yesterday and while I’m all for getting more exercise, I can’t help but think there’s something else going on here,” she muses. “You’re casing the neighborhood, aren’t you.”

It isn’t a question and Callen smiles at her realization. “Got it in one, Norah.”

She visibly flinches when he calls her by her new name and then smiles apologetically at him. “I guess I should get used to being called that, eh?”

“Yes, you should, especially since I’m pretty sure we’ll spontaneously run into Susan tonight.”

“Susan?”

Callen grins. “Or, as I like to call her, Nosy Neighbor Number 1 from across the street.”

“How many nosy neighbors do we have?” Nell asks, eyes widening.

Callen chuckles. “Pretty much all of them. Welcome to suburbia.”


	6. Chapter 6

When the weekend comes, Callen’s at a loss for what to do. He doesn’t have a legitimate need to go into the office and now that George has been reunited with his wife, he doesn’t want to attract any undue suspicion by going to work on the weekend rather than spending it with his wife. 

Nell is, predictably, in the basement. She doesn’t complain about the workload—not that he expects her to—and she actually seems to thrive. After all, she’s in her element. He feels like he should help her though, but knows she doesn’t need it. So, he approaches the subject with a question: “What can I do to be useful?”

Nell stares at him, unblinking, for at least ten seconds before she answers. “Well, you could run down a couple leads.”

So, she sets him up at the desk next to hers and they start sifting through the information he’s been collecting. 

At first, it’s a little awkward. The data is electronic, but there are notes and hardcopies everywhere. There are a lot of apologies, moments when they get in each other’s way, and general mayhem because both of them are too used to doing things on their own to be sharing such a small space. But they figure it out.

Before he knows it, Callen’s in the zone. Nell’s notes are logically organized and he’s easily able to determine what it is she’s looking for without needing to talk to her about it.

He’s so focused, he’s not even aware of the passage of time until Nell shoves a sandwich under his nose. He looks up, startled, and realizes not only is he hungry, but that six hours have passed.

Callen forces himself to eat without working, if only because his brain has already been interrupted. Nell is munching on her own sandwich—turkey with spinach, avocado, and bacon on wheat—and also spinning slowly in her chair, clearly lost in thought.

“Thanks.”

Nell stops, tilting her head at him in mid-chew. He raises his empty plate at her. She smiles and then shows him her phone: there’s a recurring appointment for lunch on it.

He smirks. “Is that really necessary?”

“Would you have remembered?”

Callen pauses. “Point taken.”

He waits for her to finish her food and they go upstairs to dispose of their dishes, both glad for a moment to stretch.

“I’m surprised by how late it is.”

“Welcome to my world,” Nell giggles. “I lose track of time, well, all the time.”

And Callen realizes that he _is_ in her world, now. The agents may do more physical work, but it’s the patterns and connections that techs like Nell and Eric find that allow them to do their jobs as well as they do.

“Speaking of,” he trails off.

“Ready to dive back in?”

He nods. “Sure, but I vote for Chinese delivery for dinner.”

“Deal.”

* * *

Sunday is much like Saturday, except midway through they have to check in with Hetty using their secure line. Status is brief—they’re still investigating possible leads—and then Hetty asks to speak with Callen alone.

Nell exchanges a curious look with Callen. “Um, okay. I’ll, uh, go do a grocery run, I guess.”

After she leaves, Callen eyes Hetty. “What’s going on?”

Hetty sits forward, her hand folded in front. “How are you?”

Callen blinks. “Fine.”

“And the living arrangements?”

“Adequate,” he slowly replies. “Where is this going?”

Hetty sits back and sighs. “There are concerns that Miss Jones’s inexperience in the field—particularly her lack of undercover training—may negatively impact the outcome of the operation.”

He arches an eyebrow.

She holds up a hand as if to forestall any argument. “I have informed the powers that be that her past performance has been solid so there’s no reason to believe there would be any issue.”

“But they still want you to check.”

“Correct.”

He takes a breath and then slowly exhales. Callen’s first instinct is to defend, and quite vehemently, but he’s dealt with bureaucrats before and knows they care more about results than character.

“Not an issue,” he begins. “She’s definitely the right one for this job. Her organizational skills are superb, her work ethic tireless, and although we may not have any solid leads, she’s thrown out a significant number of false ones. That shouldn’t be overlooked.”

“As I expected,” Hetty nods, writing down a few notes. “And what of the interactions of your aliases?”

“How do you mean?”

Hetty peers at him through the webcam. “Are Mr. and Mrs. Chapman happily married?”

“Oh.” He pauses, thinking of what he should say. “It’s only been a week. There have been a few awkward moments, but we’re working through them. All signs point to a happy marriage.”

Nodding slowly, Hetty makes a few more notes. “Now, there is one other issue.”

At this point, he’s pretty sure where this conversation is going, so he opts for the direct approach. “Is this the part where you tell me to be careful about mixing personal with professional?”

Hetty says nothing and then sits further forward. “Do I need to?”

Or maybe he doesn’t know what she’s getting at after all. “N—No.”

“Uh huh.” Hetty looks as if she’s going to say more, but pauses and shakes her head slightly. “No, my comment is more about Miss Jones’s well-being.”

“Her well-being?”

“Mr. Callen, one of the reasons she was sent to you was because she was working herself to exhaustion due to her extended workload.”

“I see.” And he does, because he’s witnessed her tenacity first hand. “You think she might work too much here because it’s the only thing she’s doing?”

Hetty nods once.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

She leans even closer, a finger pointing right at chest level—how she manages that through a webcam is beyond him. “I want my intelligence analyst _and_ my agent in superb condition once this operation is over.”

“We’ll do our best, Hetty.”

“See that you do.”

* * *

Callen’s in the living room flipping through television channels when Nell returns.

“What did Hetty want?” she blurts out. “Sorry, sorry, I know it’s none of my business.”

He grins at her. “She wanted to make sure you weren’t working too much.”

Nell frowns. “Why couldn’t she ask me that directly?”

“I think she wanted a third party’s observation,” he replies with a shrug.

“And what did you say?” She tries not to sound too eager, but she’s curious what he thinks of her.

“That I’d try to make sure you don’t.” He turns the TV off and comes to her. Callen gestures at the grocery bags. “Is that dinner?”

“Among other things.”

“Good.”

And then he takes the bags from her and starts walking to the kitchen.

“I could’ve handled that,” she frowns.

He turns his head, but keeps walking. “I know.”

Confused, Nell follows him. She frowns more when he starts unpacking the groceries. “What are you doing?”

He pauses and looks at her. She can’t really read his expression, but if she has to pick a word to describe it, she’d have to go with “incredulous.”

“Making dinner,” he finally answers.

“I can do that.”

Nell finds herself riveted to the spot as Callen’s lips slowly turn up into a smile. She remains in place when he walks to her and places his hands on her shoulders.

“I know you can. And you have. And I appreciate that you have been.”

“But? It sounds like there should be a ‘but’.”

“But you don’t have to.”

Nell blinks. “What?”

“Norah,” he murmurs, leaning down so he’s eye-level with her. “Your husband wants to make you dinner.”

“Uh—“

“And, no, you can’t help,” he interrupts. He points to the chairs at the breakfast bar. “But you can watch.”

Nell can’t think of anything to say, so she sits and watches Callen make dinner. At first, it’s weird, but then she sits back and enjoys the show.

Callen’s focused, as he always is, and she takes a moment to really observe him. He’s efficient and skilled, his movements confident. Nell only really knows him as a great agent, but it’s no surprise that his field skills directly translate to domestic ones.

“What?”

Nell shakes herself, not expecting the question. “What?”

“That was my question. You were staring.”

She feels her cheeks heat up because she realizes she was. And, since he’s turned away from her, she’s effectively been staring at his backside for the past several minutes.

“You _were_ , weren’t you?”

“What? No, I—“

And then he’s playing with her because he turns back to the stove and _wiggles_.

Nell can’t help it, she laughs.

“Ah ha!” His gestures at her triumphantly, wooden spoon in hand. “I knew it.”

“Well, what else am I supposed to look at?” She immediately clamps her hands over her mouth.

“Norah, Norah,” he chastises. “You little vixen.”

“Can’t a wife admire her husband?” She smiles and tries not to think too much about what she’s just said.

He barks out a laugh. “Touché.”

They chat while he makes dinner and Nell reflects on the novelty of the situation. She’s been working so hard for the past several months she hasn’t been able to make a trip home in a long time. Thus, having someone else cook for her—and going out to eat or getting take out doesn’t count—is, well, just nice. She realizes, too, Callen is good company and not just because she has to live in the same space as him, either.

The meal itself is superb and conversation flows between them easily.

“So, I saw the Johnstons when I was out,” she mentions before taking a bite.

“Were they watering their lawn?”

Nell giggles. “They seem to do that a lot, don’t they?”

“I think that’s all they do along with mowing it,” Callen grins.

“And, yes, they were. Well, Andrew was. Lauren looked more like she was instructing him.”

“Sounds about right,” he muses. “Have you noticed anything strange about the Andersons?”

Nell raises an eyebrow. “What, other than the fact that Jane seems to move out and then back in every other week?”

Callen snorts. “Okay, so it’s not just me.”

Nell giggles again and then she can’t stop.

“What’s so funny?”

“Us,” she manages, still laughing a little. “Who would have thought that, first of all, our fake marriage would seem to be the most stable one in the neighborhood? And, secondly, that we’d be gossiping?”

“Certainly not me,” he agrees.

As Callen rises, grabbing empty dishes, she joins him. “Am I allowed to help with the dishes?”

He eyes her critically before winking at her. “Of course.” 

Nell takes the remaining dishes and precedes Callen to the sink, turning on the faucet and starting the rinsing process. She’s vaguely aware that he’s moving around somewhere behind her, but it doesn’t register until she turns to open the dishwasher. Nell literally squeaks as she falls over it.

The dishwasher is already open and Nell belatedly realizes Callen opened it just moments before. It takes her several more seconds to notice Callen has an arm wrapped around her waist, keeping her from actually falling over the dishwasher door.

“Sorry about that,” he murmurs in her ear before setting her upright. He doesn’t remove his arm. “I thought we were helping each other.”

“We are,” she breathes. “I just wasn’t expecting that.” Slowly, she straightens up, still within the circle of his arm. “I guess I haven’t really been expecting this whole thing.”

She goes utterly still when Callen reaches up with his other hand and tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “You and me both.”

The moment seems to stretch for a long time and Nell isn’t entirely sure what’s going on. But she’s feeling self-conscious and awkward and she falls back on her defense mechanisms. She turns away, back to the dishes. “I guess that’s something else we’ll have to continue learning, right? Living in the same space?”

He doesn’t answer, but Nell refuses to look at him, instead focusing on the dishes. Finally, she sees movement in her peripheral vision and he hands her the next dish to load into the dishwasher.

“Yeah, I guess so.”


	7. Chapter 7

“We’re going to go where?” Nell asks.

“The beach,” Callen answers, slowly. “It’s a work thing. We’re expected. _You’re_ expected.”

Nell just stares, unsure what to think or feel. “I—do you think this is a good idea?”

“Norah, you’re doing fine.”

She’s still caught off guard every time he calls her by her alias. At least she’s stopped stumbling over his, mostly.

“Sure, around the neighborhood and at the store, but these are people you work with. I’m not trained for this.”

Callen smiles at her. “You don’t need training, just be yourself. The only real difference between Nell and Norah is that Norah is married.”

“And that’s a very important distinction, _George_.”

“I see your point,” Callen concedes. “But this is going to happen eventually and now is as good a time as any. They’re going to wonder why I don’t want them to meet my wife at this rate.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve had to fend off several attempts at my colleagues stopping by the house on a social call. There’s only so long you can be ‘settling in,’ as it were.”

Nell sighs, feeling a flutter of anxiety in her chest. “But what if they start asking questions?”

“You’ll answer them. Look, you created us. I think you have a better chance of keeping suspicion off than I would, at least when it comes to the details.”

Nell sits in a heap on the couch. “I don’t like this, George. It’s like going into the lions’ den.”

“It’s just the beach. What could possibly go wrong?”

“Famous last words,” she mutters.

* * *

Callen is packing up the car for their beach trip when Nell steps out of the house. He turns to greet her and he’s momentarily speechless.

He’s used to the Nell Jones he sees in Ops, nearly always covered from head to toe because the room is kept cool due to all their equipment. The woman he sees before him is not Nell Jones.

She’s wearing her swimsuit, a modest two piece, under some clothes. Although, Callen’s pretty sure what she has over her swimsuit could barely be considered “clothes.” Nell has a tunic for a top, but it’s so loosely crocheted he wonders what was the point. A sarong tied around her waist serves as a skirt, albeit not a regular one since the slit on the side goes all the way up to knot at her very exposed hip. Flip flops with a short heel complete the outfit and he can see she’s carrying a wide-brimmed hat in her hands as she’s shoving large sunglasses on her face.

“Okay, I think I’m ready,” she says, readjusting a tote bag on her shoulder. “Do you have everything?”

Callen shakes his head to clear it. “I think so: towels, umbrella, cooler, and about a gallon of sunscreen.”

Nell shoves him in the arm and he grins, glad she’s comfortable enough to respond to his teasing. “You mock, but I burn fast, dear.”

“You know, the point of going to the beach is to enjoy the weather. It’s a nice day, you can get some vitamin D the natural way.”

“Or, you know, sunburns and skin cancer.”

“Oh, ye of little faith,” he quips, shutting the trunk. “You already put sunscreen on, didn’t you?”

An impish smile crosses her lips and Callen can only laugh. “All right, then. Let’s go.”

The drive to the beach is conducted mostly in silence. The radio is on, but the volume is down so low Callen can’t really hear anything other than a few notes here and there. He is, instead, focused on Nell, because as they get closer to their destination, her anxiety level goes up. By the time they pull into the parking lot, he can practically feel waves of nervous energy coming off her. He puts a hand on hers before she can open the door.

“Norah,” he says, trying to imbue as much support and calm as he can in the word. “Breathe.”

Nell exhales and flashes him a smile before getting out of the car.

* * *

Meeting Callen’s colleagues goes better than Nell thought it would. They’re friendly enough and Callen’s boss, Terri, is especially eager to meet her. She thinks she makes a good impression and after a few minutes, Nell starts to relax. She realizes he was right, she can be herself and there’s no problem. Until the personal questions start.

“So, how did you two meet?” Terri asks.

Oh, crap. “George didn’t tell you?” Nell asks, stalling.

Terri shakes her head. “He’s particularly silent on the subject of you. We were beginning to think you didn’t really exist.”

Terri laughs and Nell joins in, although hers is more a nervous chuckle than anything else.

“I hope you’re not asking my wife for embarrassing stories, Terri,” Callen asks, coming to join them after he’d set their gear down.

“Not at all,” Nell answers. She deliberately glues herself to Callen’s side, taking comfort in his presence. “She was just asking how we met. I’m surprised you didn’t tell her, dear.”

Callen shrugs and looks down at her. Nell can’t read the expression in his eyes but he’s definitely not concerned by the topic. “I figured I’d let you ladies chat about it.”

“Yes! Please do,” Terri encourages.

“Well,” Nell starts, drawing out the word. “It really isn’t very exciting. We met on the DC Metro.”

“Oh, come now, there must be more to it,” Terri prods. “Details, woman, give me details.”

Callen squeezes her arm and detaches himself, going back to their spot on the beach and Nell quickly thinks about what she put in their back stories and tries to weave a plausible tale.

“Well, you know George worked near the Pentagon, right?”

Terri nods. 

“I’m not sure how familiar you are with the layout of the DC Metro area, but at the time, he was living in Clarendon and I was near the Vienna-Fairfax station. I had a fellowship near the Archives, so I took the metro to work every day.”

“Oh, I’m familiar with the Metro,” Terri supplies. “I’ve visited DC on a few occasions for work and got to know the system pretty well. Vienna-Fairfax is at the end of the orange line, isn’t it?”

Nell nods, completely unsurprised Terri knows the Metro layout. “Yes. For me, I needed to get to L’Enfant Plaza to switch to the yellow line. The most straight forward path to the Pentagon is to switch to the blue line at Rosslyn.”

“I take it George didn’t take the most straight forward path.”

Nell can’t help but smile at Terri’s tone. Clearly, the other woman has picked up on George’s—and Callen’s—tenacious behavior.

“No, but I didn’t know that for a while. The day we met, the Metro was particularly crowded and we ended up next to each other. There was a large tourist group that day and I was stuck standing in one of the corners. George got on at Clarendon, made his way through the crowd, saw me getting squished every which way, and basically planted himself between me and everyone else.”

“Was it love at first sight?”

Nell has to keep herself from snorting. “No, not really. To be honest, there wasn’t much of a chance to talk other than a greeting and a comment about how crowded it was. But, the next day, we ended up in the same car and even though it wasn’t nearly as full, he came and stood by me again.”

“And I’ll bet it kept happening,” Terri interjects.

This time, Nell does laugh a little. “You know, the following week I called him on it and he admitted to seeking me out!”

Terri taps her lip in thought. “You said you didn’t know right away that he hadn’t taken the most straight forward path.”

Nell nods. “Yeah, that first day, he stayed with me to L’Enfant and switched to the yellow line—that path goes to the Pentagon, too.”

“How much time does that add?”

“Only about 15 minutes,” Callen supplies, coming back and joining their conversation. “And totally worth it.”

Terri elbows Callen in the ribs. “Who knew you were such a romantic, George.”

“What can I say? She caught my eye, this tiny woman in the midst of a huge crowd.”

Nell puts a hand on Callen’s arm and he moves to stand behind her. “Anyway, the morning commute became our little habit. And then that turned into meeting somewhere in the middle for dinner. And the rest is history.”

“Very nice,” Terri says. “And normal, unlike my story.”

“I heard! Something about a runaway Vespa and a grinder monkey?”

“We are not telling that story again,” a male voice interrupts. Nell looks up to see another man approaching. “Good to see you, George. You must be Norah, I’m John, Terri’s husband. And, for the record, neither the Vespa nor the monkey were mine.”

“Uh huh,” Nell remarks, feigning disbelief.

John turns to address Terri. “I think your carefully planned out perimeter is being ignored.”

“What?” Terri exclaims, looking around, shoulders immediately tensing. With a sigh, she looks at Nell apologetically. “Thanks for the story. We’ll have to talk more later, but right now I have to go fix this.”

“Not a problem,” Nell answers with a sympathetic smile.

Terri walks off and John chuckles. “Always on the job, that one, but I just know she’ll go nuts if she doesn’t address this now. I better go help her.”

Nell waves John off and she can still feel Callen behind her. “Well, they seem nice.”

“Anything else?” he asks, voice low so only she can hear.

“I’m not terribly good at reading people,” Nell admits. “But is it just me or does she seem a little on edge?”

“It’s not just you. But we’ll talk about that later. Come on, the umbrella is setup.”

* * *

Callen has to admit, the umbrella is definitely a good idea. The San Diego sun is especially hot that day and without it, he’s sure he’d be fried. When he mentions it, Nell at least has the good grace to not actually say, “I told you so.” The look she gives him is close enough.

“Are you going to go in the water?” she asks randomly, not looking up from the book she’s reading.

“Probably.”

“Then you should put sunscreen on now.”

“Yes, dear,” Callen replies with a grin, pulling his shirt off.

Immediately he can feel a change in atmosphere. His eyes lock with Nell’s and Callen can see a brief flash of anguish in her eyes.

“Whoa, George, you were shot?” Terri’s voice interrupts. She and John are setup next to them and they, along with a few of their other neighbors, are staring at the scars on his chest and back.

Shit, they hadn’t thought of this. Callen’s mind goes into overdrive, thinking up a plausible scenario.

“Wrong place at the wrong time,” are the first words out of his mouth.

Terri and John are still gaping. Rule seven: be specific when you lie. Right.

“I got caught between rival gangs in a bad part of DC,” Callen adds.

“What were you doing in gang territory?” Terri wonders.

Callen shrugs. “I was meeting a source. Sometimes, you have to go to terrible places for the best information.”

He sees her nod and knows she’s had to do some things she rather wished she hadn’t. He files that little tidbit away for later.

“Was this before or after you two met?” John inquires.

“After,” Nell breaks in. He’s surprised to hear emotion thick in her voice. “We were married six months after he got out of the hospital.”

Callen whips his head around and stares at her, but she won’t look at him, instead staring out at the ocean.

“Help me with this?” he asks her, holding a bottle of sunscreen out.

Nell turns towards him, but she still won’t look him in the eye. She takes the bottle from his hand and motions for him to turn. He faces towards the ocean, blocking everyone else out. He can practically feel them still staring at him, at his scars, but eventually all he can feel is Nell’s small hands on his back.

Her touch is gentle as she smoothes the cool cream across his skin. Callen feels her hesitate when she gets near one of the exit wounds.

He turns his head slightly and, just loud enough for her to hear, murmurs, “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not.” But her hands don’t stop and they glide over his scars and he swears her touch is even gentler on them, almost a caress.

“All done.” Nell’s hands stop, but linger on his shoulders.

Callen turns and gives her a smile, glad she’s looking him in the eye again. He can still sense an awkwardness about her and he really wants to talk to her, but now isn’t the right place. 

“You should come into the water with me,” he says as he spreads sunscreen on his arms and chest. Quieter, he adds, “We should talk.”

Nell stills, isn’t even breathing for a long moment. “Okay.”

Rising, Callen extends a hand to her. Nell takes it and together they walk towards the water.

* * *

The Pacific Ocean is refreshing, especially on such a hot day. Nell hadn’t intended to go in the water—she was just as content to spend a day at the beach just reading and relaxing. But, she and Callen definitely need to talk.

She wades in until the water reaches her knees and then stops. Nell is not a good swimmer and her old childhood fears resurface.

Callen, a few steps ahead of her, turns when she stops and drops his hand.

“Everything all right?”

“Yeah,” she replies immediately. She can tell he knows she’s not.

He steps towards her and offers his hand again, a smile on his lips. “I’m here.”

Taking a deep breath and exhaling loudly, Nell takes Callen’s hand and allows him to lead her deeper into the water. She’s significantly shorter than him, though. “I’m not going to be able to touch the ocean floor for very much further.”

She doesn’t expect him to tug her hand. Because she’s mostly submerged, she’s easily pulled off her feet and Nell finds herself clutching at Callen, one arm around his shoulder.

“I’ve got you.” Callen’s voice is warm in her ear. “Just a little further and I think we’ll be far enough away from everyone else.”

Within a couple steps, Nell’s hanging onto Callen completely. Sometimes her toes brush against the ocean floor, but she definitely can’t stand on her own.

“I—I should tell you swimming is not my forte,” Nell stammers. “And, uh, I don’t really float all that well, either.”

Callen unhooks her arms from around his shoulders and turns so he’s facing her, still holding her close enough that she can stay above water. “Like I said, I got you. You can trust me, Nell.”

“Norah,” she immediately corrects.

He shakes his head. “I said it on purpose. You can trust me.”

And then he’s walking backwards, deeper into the water.

* * *

Just at the point where he can barely feel the sand under his feet, Callen stops. His natural buoyancy doesn’t make him float very well, either, but he’s sure he can keep them both from getting into any real danger. 

“This should be far enough,” he says, but he frowns when he sees the look on Nell’s face. “Is this okay?”

“Um—it’s nothing.”

With one hand, he gently turns Nell’s face so she’s looking right at him. Then, in the most neutral, non-judgmental tone he can muster, he calls her out on what is clearly a lie. “Bullshit.”

“Okay, okay, so I have some issues with deep water from when I was a kid. I’m not proud of it,” she admits.

“Yet you’re out here with me, facing your fears. I don’t think you have anything to be ashamed of,” he remarks. “Do we need to go back?”

Nell studies him for a moment and he’s glad she doesn’t come back immediately with a defensive answer.

“No, I—I think I’m okay. For now.”

Callen bounces once and pushes forward, planting his feet firmly in the sand when he lands. He can feel Nell relax in his arms and he raises an eyebrow at her.

“Thanks.”

He tilts his head in acknowledgment and then takes a moment to survey the area. Some of the kids are splashing just on the shore, but they’re the only ones actually in the water.

“About what happened earlier,” he starts. “It really is okay.”

Callen’s surprised by the incredulous look on her face.

“You were _shot_. You were shot _five times_. In what universe is that ever okay?”

“Occupational hazard.” His response is immediate and one he uses all the time. He’s not prepared for the look of anger on Nell’s features.

“Now who’s talking bullshit?”

He holds a hand up in defense. “It _is_ an occupational hazard and I do concede your point. Yes, being shot up in a drive-by isn’t okay, but that’s not what I meant.”

She frowns, confusion clear on her face.

“Nell—and I still mean Nell—I meant you shouldn’t feel bad about something that happened before we met.”

She sighs, looking away from him. “I can’t help it.”

“Well, I appreciate it, but you shouldn’t dwell on it. What’s done is done.” He pauses for a moment before continuing, “But, I’m concerned there might be other things that are going to pop up similar to this that we haven’t talked about. And what about medical records?”

“Crap! I don’t think your shooting is in it. I should have thought of that. Damn it, I—“

“Stop.”

“—what?” Her eyes settle on his and he can practically see the gears turning in her head.

“Stop,” he repeats. “Beating yourself up, I mean. You did a great job with the aliases, especially since you couldn’t share them with anyone else, much less have them look it over for errors or omissions.”

“Thanks, but I should have caught this.”

“Doesn’t matter now. Let’s just think about what needs to happen next.”

Nell nods, looking up at the sky as she thinks. “Well, I’ll need to find a way to put this incident in George’s medical records. I’ll do that as soon as we get home.”

“What details are you going to put in?”

“I can pull the basics from the actual incident report. We’ve been married for, what, just over a year, right? So, I know when it happened.”

He nods. “I think that should be good. See? Nothing to it.”

Nell’s lips turn up slightly. He can tell she’s still upset, but accepting of the situation. “What was up with Terri earlier?”

Callen raises an eyebrow in confusion.

“She seemed, I don’t know, like she was trying too hard?” Nell tries.

“Ah, right. That. It’s been a couple months but I still don’t have a good read on her,” Callen admits. “I don’t think she’s directly involved in whatever activities are going on at the company, but she’s affected. She has a strong personality and control issues, which isn’t surprising given she’s head of security.”

“Huh, so a bit like me?”

Callen grins. “Maybe.”

“What makes you think she’s not involved?”

“I think if she knew exactly what was going on, she wouldn’t sometimes seem like she’s losing control,” he muses.

“The control thing?”

“The control thing.”

“I think I can relate,” Nell remarks, eyes casting to the sides as the water laps around them.

Suddenly, a strong wave lifts Callen off his feet and she clutches at him, her knees instinctively rising to anchor at his hips. “I’ve got you.”

“You keep saying that,” she breathes, looking over his shoulder as if she can see something coming.

Callen wraps an arm around her back. “It’s because I do. I mean it. This operation puts you in a very awkward position, but I need you to know I’m here for you. You can trust me.”

She shifts her arms, now that she’s closer to him, and they study each other for a long moment. The sun is bright, and that close, Callen is caught by the depth in her hazel eyes.

“I know and I do,” she says, voice soft. “Trust you, that is.”

They stay that way, entwined with faces close, for several minutes. Neither says a word, but none need to be spoken.

“Good,” Callen finally replies.

Nell smiles, then closes her eyes and tilts her head back. “This is kind of nice.”

“It is, isn’t it? Although I think maybe we need to head back. Your shoulders are looking a little pink.”

Nell snaps her head up and gasps, prodding her skin with a finger. “Oh, crap, I hope I’m not sunburned. I hate being sunburned.”

“Norah, no one _likes_ being sunburned.”

“You know what I mean,” she admonishes. “This is why I didn’t want to come into the water. I was fine under the nice, big umbrella with sunscreen that didn’t have a chance to wash off.”

“Tell you what,” he says as he starts pulling them closer to the shore. “If you do end up being sunburned, I’ll take full responsibility.”

* * *

It turns out Nell does get a little sunburned, but Callen taking responsibility for it doesn’t make her feel any less miserable.

“Wow, you have really fair skin,” Callen remarks when he sees her shoulders later that day.

She allows herself a little whine. She throws him a dirty look when he chuckles. “This isn’t funny. Just for that, you get aloe duty.”

He raises an eyebrow. Nell rummages around in her tote before producing a bottle of aloe.

“Right. Aloe duty.” Callen takes the bottle and moves to sit behind her.

In retrospect, it might not have been such a great idea to give Callen aloe duty because the moment he puts his hands on her, Nell very nearly makes some highly inappropriate noises.

“Haa—“

He stops. “What was that?”

“Where the hell did you learn how to do that?” she practically moans.

Though she can’t see him, Nell can feel him smiling. “I take it you like this.”

“Don’t make me say it.”

He chuckles but otherwise stays quiet, resuming the application of aloe to her very pink skin and giving her quite possibly the best shoulder massage she’s ever had.

Nell is putty in Callen’s hands and she really doesn’t care. As the minutes go by, her eyes droop and she relaxes even further. She doesn’t even notice when she leans back and nods off.

* * *

Nell has been asleep in his arms for the past several minutes and it gives Callen the opportunity to do a few things.

First, it helps him establish a close relationship for George and Norah. Their little stint in the water plus this display of affection should help sell their marriage to the company. The last thing the mission needs is additional scrutiny from his colleagues into his personal life.

Second, it gives Callen a chance to sit back and observe the crowd. There’s a good showing from the company and an informal setting helps him understand the structure and atmosphere in a different way.

He’s not entirely surprised to find the groups are clustered by department. He, Terri, and the other security folks are on the periphery with a good view of the rest of the company. He can see the IT folks a little further up the beach, giant tents covering them. More than a couple of them have laptops or tablets out. Finance and business development are closer to the water, some in it, others sunbathing. Even the engineers have their own groups, but they at least seem to mingle more than within their disciplines.

But the most interesting group is the one made up of the top executives. The President and the Vice President are way up on the beach, the furthest away from the water, literally presiding over their people. The company is small, but a significant percentage makes up the executive entourage. 

Callen hasn’t had much of a chance to interact with them, being low man on the totem pole, but he’s pulled enough information to know the two at the top aren’t exactly on friendly terms. The President and Vice President, Henry Stevens and Chris Brockman respectively, founded the company together, but somehow the balance of power landed in Stevens’s favor and it’s no secret Brockman wants the title. 

Callen wonders if maybe that power play is the impetus to NCIS’s investigation. If it is, they’ve kept it well hidden, much like the animosity between the two men. On the surface, they seem amiable enough. There isn’t anything overtly wrong with their interactions, but somehow he can sense it.

His thoughts are interrupted when Nell shifts in her sleep, rolling to her side and wrapping an arm around his torso. Callen looks down and is momentarily distracted by the serene look on her face. She looks at peace and he can’t help but feel good about that.

It’s been two weeks since she arrived and Callen knows without a doubt that she’s an invaluable asset to the mission. And, if he’s honest with himself, she’s been a great comfort to him, too.

When he first arrived in San Diego, he thought he’d jump into the mission like he had on countless occasions before. But there was something off, something undefined that was keeping him on edge. It took him several days to realize he missed his team, his family.

He and Sam have been partners for over five years, and while they’ve had their ups and downs, there’s no one Callen trusts more and not just with his professional life. The rest of the team, while maybe not as close to him in his personal life as Sam, is just as important. They’re a part of his life and not having them around has been throwing him off.

But with Nell there, things are better. She adds a familiarity that he was missing and he realized quickly that she was also fun to be around.

And this is where he has to be careful. Callen doesn’t have to lie to her, doesn’t want to, but in a way he is because he’s playing the part of George Chapman, loving husband. Nell and Norah are the same and he can’t help but wonder if she’s starting to believe the lie. It’s hard not to, especially when they’re living together, but Callen can definitely tell she’s more comfortable with him than when she first arrived. He doesn’t know if that’s the natural progression of things or if it’s something a little bit more due to their circumstances. It could even be a little of both.

As he watches her sleep—and sleep _on_ him, no less—he takes a moment to examine his feelings. There have been times in the past couple weeks when he’s found himself truly enjoying Nell’s company and he wasn’t able to determine if the feelings came from George or G. And sometimes, _sometimes_ , he lets himself admit he doesn’t care if there is a difference. 

The thought should make him more uncomfortable than it already does, but at that moment, with Nell snug in his arms, Callen lets himself believe the lie just a little bit. He lets himself believe that living and sharing a life with someone else just might actually work for him.

Settling down a little deeper in the sand, he tucks loose strands of hair behind Nell’s ear and pulls her closer. She sighs softly, but doesn’t wake, one hand curled on his chest. Yeah, he could definitely get used to this.

* * *

A cool breeze makes her shiver and Nell wakes with a start.

“Evening, sleepyhead,” a voice rumbles under her ear.

Blinking rapidly, trying to clear her vision, she looks up and is mortified to find herself lying on top of, _on top of_ , G Callen.

She tries to get up but his arm tightens around her.

“It’s okay.”

“I’m sorry,” she immediately responds. She’s confused when he frowns.

“For having a nap with your husband?”

“I—I guess not. This—“ She cuts herself off and sighs. “For being awkward, then.”

He smiles at her and then her heart skips a beat when he sits up, taking her with him, and kisses her on the forehead. She knows he’s playing a part, knows everyone is watching, but she just cannot help from reacting. Nell clutches at him and buries her face in his neck.

“Hey, lovebirds,” a voice calls out. Nell looks up to see Terri coming towards them, two drinks in her hands. “The bonfire is starting. It’s time to drink. Norah, you look like a margarita kind of girl. Here, have one.”

“Uh, thanks,” Nell says, taking the drink. “Are they good?”

“Good enough that I’ve already had two of them,” Terri giggles and sips hers, sloshing some on the sand. “Come on, George. I’m sure there’s a beer with your name on it.”

Nell exchanges a look with Callen and nods. “We’ll be right there, Terri.”

As Terri walks back—or stumbles, really—Nell tries her drink.

“Whoa.” She coughs, not expecting the potency of the alcohol.

“Strong?” Callen asks, standing up and brushing sand off.

“This is less a margarita than a giant vaguely lime-spritzed tequila shot.”

He grins. “I sense shenanigans.”

She waves him off dismissively. “I’ll be fine.”

Three hours and two margaritas later—interspersed with bottles of water she mysteriously finds in her hand—Nell reconsiders her statement. Or, she would if she could string together coherent thoughts.

By now, she’s met the entire security department as well as the IT team and Nell is standing by the bonfire with Terri, and Angela Carter, the head of IT.

“These are some great margaritas, Terri,” Nell toasts, taking a big sip.

“They are, but I didn’t make them, Angie did.”

“Really? We should be friends!”

“I was thinking the same thing!”

The three ladies spend a few minutes hugging each other and Nell has a vague recollection of having this exact conversation at least twice before but she’s not really sure and she doesn’t quite care.

“Do you ladies need another drink?” a male voice asks.

Nell looks around and sees a man, a little taller than Callen, with a tray of fresh margaritas. What was his name?

“Ooh, Davis, you’re a doll,” Terri praises, downing her margarita in one gulp while grabbing another.

Oh, right. Davis Mathieson. One of the VP’s entourage. 

“I probably shouldn’t,” Nell replies, proud that her words don’t come out completely slurred. When did she lose control of her tongue?

“Oh, come now, the night is young, Norah.” Davis leans in close, waving a fresh margarita under her nose.

“As much as I’m sure she’d like to, I’ll have to intervene.” Callen is suddenly beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “You’re probably going to hate yourself in the morning as it is.”

Nell looks up at him, but Callen isn’t looking at her, he’s staring Davis down. Frowning, she looks between the two men, not really sure what’s going on, but knowing something isn’t quite right. “Yah, I think I passed my limit, uh, how many have I had?”

Terri and Angela burst into giggles, Terri falling onto the sand in a heap.

“And, that’s my cue,” John announces as he joins their group and helps his wife to her feet.

All three women groan in protest as Angela’s date saunters over and soon everyone disperses.

“Don’t we have to get our stuff?” Nell asks, leaning heavily against Callen as he leads them to the parking lot.

“Already took care of it.”

She frowns, thinking hard. “Is that where you disappeared to?”

“Mmhmm.”

They walk in silence for a while before a thought that was in the back of Nell’s mind makes it to the front.

“Davis is kind of creepy.” 

She feels Callen tense and she looks up.

“Hey,” Nell says and stops walking. Callen turns to her, a question on his features. She moves to him and puts her hands on his cheeks. “No frowning, this is supposed to be a happy time.”

She feels the muscles move under her fingers as he smiles and she knows she’s grinning in response. “That’s better.” 

She’s not sure how long they stand like that, but Nell is suddenly acutely aware of how close she is to him and that they’ve been staring at each other for what seems like forever. Even with just the moonlight, Nell is captivated by his blue eyes.

Before she can lose her nerve, Nell tugs Callen towards her and plants a kiss on the corner of his mouth. He doesn’t react for a moment, but then his arms wrap around her and Nell sighs happily at the contact.

“Let’s get you home,” Callen murmurs.


	8. Chapter 8

Callen’s already up when Nell wakes the next morning. He’s in the kitchen, reading the paper, when he hears feet running. A moment later, he hears the toilet flush.

Yep. Hangover time.

He is at least glad Nell hadn’t protested when he made her drink a bottle of water between margaritas last night, but he knew all the same this was coming.

Grabbing some supplies, Callen heads upstairs.

“Still alive in there?” he asks quietly, poking his head into the master bathroom.

Nell whimpers and he can’t help but feel a little sorry for her. When they’d arrived home, he’d practically had to carry her. He would have, but she was having none of it, convinced she could make it inside on her own. She passed out as soon as her head hit the bed, which was a little awkward since the rest of her body was angled off of it. Callen managed to roll her over so she was at least more comfortable and then left to let her sleep off the alcohol.

He did, however, sleep on the floor in the room, just to make sure nothing went on in the middle of the night.

Now, she’s curled on the bathroom floor, still in her bathing suit but without the cover up clothing.

“Oh, god, why did I drink so much?” she rasps, eyes squeezed shut.

“You were having fun.”

“How is this fun?” she groans.

He’d be amused if he wasn’t a little concerned. Nell’s smaller than him, both in height and in body mass, and given how many drinks she had, he’s worried she may have overdone it.

“Will you let me help you?”

“Please.” The word is almost a whine.

Without another word, he sits on the floor behind her and gently pulls her to a sitting position. He has water, which he makes her drink, but it all comes back up again when she suddenly lurches forward to the toilet just in time.

Callen pulls her to him again, applying a cool cloth to the back of her neck. They try hydrating once more and this time she keeps it down so he gives her some Tylenol, too. It takes a couple hours, but she’s more hydrated and has even managed to eat something (even if it is just plain toast).

“I’m starting to feel human again,” she mumbles.

Callen’s lips twitch. “That’s good. Hetty would kill me if you became a zombie.”

“Hetty, ha. Oh, god, Hetty! Don’t we have a briefing today?” Nell flails and Callen has to hold her tight before she hurts herself or him.

“Next week.”

She calms down and they sit in silence for a long time.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

Nell turns her head to look him in the eye. “For being the most awesome person on the planet.”

He’s uncomfortable with the sincerity in her words and features. “Through sickness and in health, right?”

She nods and then turns away. Callen tries not to dwell on the sadness of her expression. He’s pretty sure he knows what’s going through her mind, but neither of them is ready to talk about it. He’d quoted from the traditional wedding vows on purpose, because he needed to remind himself, to remind both of them, of the roles they’re playing, especially him. Callen starts to wonder if the case itself will be easier to manage than their relationship.

* * *

It’s a week after the beach when Callen realizes they’re probably going to have to spend a little time on their cover.

It starts with a question from Terri: “Everything all right at home, George?”

Callen frowns slightly, confused. “As far as I know, why do you ask?”

Terri takes a seat in front of his desk. “I can’t help but notice that you’re spending an awful lot of time at work.”

“We have a lot to do with the audit coming up,” he replies, slowly.

“Yes, but nothing you should risk your marriage over.”

Ah. Crap. “Oh. Uh, no, nothing’s wrong. Norah and I have been through this before. It’s always feast or famine with the workload, isn’t it?”

Terri nods sympathetically. “John and the kids have a hard time of it, too, but they make sure I don’t spend all my time at work. You should keep that under consideration.”

“Will do. Thanks for your concern, Terri.”

She rises and offers him a supportive smile. “That’s my job.”

Callen sits back and sighs heavily after she leaves. Truth be told, things on the home front have been a little awkward since the beach. Both of them have thrown themselves into their work and while they still take time off to not work, there’s a wall between them and Callen’s just not sure how to deal with it. Now, he has to figure something out before their relationship gets in the way of the mission.

* * *

Nell is having her own experiences with other people’s perceptions of her life. She’s checking the mail, of all things, when their across-the-street neighbor, Susan, flags her down.

“Hi, Susan,” Nell greets, flipping through the bills and junk mail.

“Norah, how lovely to see you. Things going okay with you and George?”

The question is so direct Nell pauses and lifts her eyes to meet the other woman’s gaze. Nell knows Susan is the neighborhood gossip, but they haven’t really spent much time together other than waving at each other when she’s out of the house or general pleasantries. “Um, fine. Why?”

Susan looks a little embarrassed and her eyes sweep to each side before stepping closer. “Well, I wasn’t the one to tell you this, but George’s behavior hasn’t gone unnoticed,” she says, voice barely above a whisper.

Nell is really confused, now. “George’s behavior?”

“It’s all right, honey,” Susan remarks, putting a hand on Nell’s shoulder. “We’ve all been there. It must have been tough for you to pick up everything and move across the country. It’s only natural that you guys would hit a rough patch.”

“I, uh, guess? But what did you mean about George’s behavior?”

“Oh, you know, leaving really early for work, coming back late at night. And you almost never go out other than to the grocery store or something. Not to mention we never see you guys go out at all. You know, like on a date?”

In the space of a few moments, Nell suddenly realizes what it must look like to other people: that George and Norah’s marriage is in trouble.

“Oh? Oh. Ohhh.” Nell laughs because she can’t come up with another response while frantically thinking of what to say. “I’m sorry, Susan, but you’ve got it all wrong.”

Susan’s eyebrow goes up, clearly skeptical.

“No, really,” she continues, waving a hand dismissively. “I’m still doing consulting for my old job in DC, so I’m working from home for now. And George is just completely swamped at work; they have an audit coming up that they need to prepare for. Trust me, once it’s done I won’t be able to get him to _go_ to work.”

“If you say so,” Susan replies, clearly still unconvinced.

On a whim, Nell hugs Susan. “Thank you, Susan, for looking out for me. But I promise you, nothing’s wrong between George and I.”

Tentatively, Susan smiles. “You know I think the world of you, Norah. Just—if you ever need anyone to talk to…”

“I know just who to talk to. I’d love to chat more, but I actually have a meeting in a few minutes,” Nell explains. She heads back into the house with a wave and a smile.

Of course, Nell doesn’t really have a meeting, except with herself. She’s pacing the entire house—all levels—trying to figure out what they need to do to get their neighbors’ attention off them. She thought they’d been doing fairly well, but clearly the people around them are way more interested in their relationship than they are.

Nell can’t help but think about the beach trip the week before. It had been a really nice trip and she thought she and Callen were growing closer and not just as George and Norah, but as G and Nell. But then, the next day, as he nursed her back to health from her hangover, he made it clear that he was playing a role and Nell found it nearly impossible to hide her disappointment. She has a vague memory of kissing him on the cheek and she wonders if she crossed a line, if that was even real.

When had she started wanting something more? When did she start developing feelings for Callen? Was it only because of the mission? She doesn’t know, but she has them now and she doesn’t know what to do about them. She just knows she’ll have to face him and figure out how to have a relationship with him, in whatever capacity he’ll allow.

When Callen returns that evening—earlier than normal—she’s upstairs. Nell makes her way to the first floor and they see each other when she’s halfway down the staircase.

“We need to talk about our marriage.”

They say the exact same thing at the exact same time and they now wear matching surprised looks on their faces.

“What happened?” she asks first.

“Terri was worried I was spending too much time at work and not enough time at home. You?”

“Pretty much the same. Our neighbors have been spying on us. Not only have they noticed your extended work hours, but they’ve noticed I don’t leave the house much. They think our marriage is in trouble. George, what do we do?” Her words come out all in a rush and when she’s done she still feels anxious.

Callen walks up the stairs, stops just below where she’s standing, and takes her hands in his. “How about a dinner date, Mrs. Chapman?”

* * *

Over the course of the next week, Nell and Callen spend a lot more time pretending to be married. Sure, they do the work that needs to be done during the day, but Callen comes home before dinner and then they either eat at home or go out, making sure to be seen.

Sometimes, she wonders if it looks like they’re trying too hard, but for the most part everyone else looks approvingly at them. But now she’s in trouble because she’s been enjoying their time together way more than she should and she knows he’s only pretending.

Nell has spent a lot of time thinking about her feelings for Special Agent G Callen and she’s come to the conclusion that she was doomed from the start. From the first day they met, she was intrigued by him. After she was read into OSP, she’d studied all the agents and Callen’s mysterious past—not to mention good looks and spectacular record—inevitably meant she paid more attention to him. She admired him, tried to get him to notice her and, more importantly, approve of her.

It didn’t take long before she became an integral part of the team. Her friendship with Eric blossomed and they traded tasks easily, each acknowledging the other’s strengths and supporting each other through their weaknesses. The agents soon began to understand what it was she did and the types of things she was best at. 

Intuitively, she knew Callen trusted her to do her job, too, but it wasn’t until the case that led them back to Callen’s old contact, Arkady Kolcheck, that Nell really felt he trusted her as a part of his team. That was the first time Callen gave her something about his past to look into—without Hetty’s authorization.

This mission has forced her to acknowledge that she has a bit of a thing for the senior agent and she has to keep reminding herself that anything he reciprocates is for the benefit of the mission. Logically, she understands this and she tries not to let it affect her work. But sometimes, she’s overcome with a sense of sadness because she can’t help but wonder what it’d be like to really be a part of his life.

* * *

When the weekend comes, Callen can feel Nell’s anxiety level go up at least two notches. He’s been spending so much time with her that he’s acutely tuned into her moods which should disconcert him but somehow doesn’t. It’s been a long time since he’s been so personally connected to another person, but with Nell, it doesn’t feel wrong.

They spend the day running errands and doing chores—together. It’s incredibly domestic and kind of surreal, but Callen finds he’s actually okay with it. For the evening, they decide on a dinner date and while that part goes off without a hitch, when they return home, Callen can’t help but notice Nell is nervous and fidgety.

“Something wrong?” he asks.

“What? No. Nothing’s wrong.” Nell’s words are quick and she won’t look at him.

They’ve been doing so well, he’s not going to let her run from this now. He catches her by her hand and tugs her to him, gently turning her head so she’ll look at him. “Pardon me if I don’t believe you.”

He feels an unfamiliar pang in his chest when she looks at him because she just looks so conflicted and he doesn’t know why. His protective instincts kick in and Callen just wants to _fix everything_. But he doesn’t know what’s broken.

“It’s just—I couldn’t help but notice all the other couples while we were out,” Nell starts. She’s blinking fast, but maintains eye contact.

“What about them?”

“I—no—it’s stupid.”

He says nothing and waits.

“It’s just, I couldn’t help but notice how _close_ everyone else was and I don’t know if it’s because I know this isn’t real,” she starts, gesturing between them, “that I felt like we were so far apart or what?”

Now he’s confused because he saw the same people but he’s not really sure what she’s getting at.

“And, I know we talked about PDA and that it isn’t necessary, but I can’t help but wonder if our neighbors and your co-workers think it’s weird that we don’t show _any_.”

The words hang in the air and then Callen suddenly gets it. “You mean because we never kiss.”

Nell flinches at the word and he has to grab her hand again to keep her from leaving the room. “I know, it’s stupid. Never mind. Forget I mentioned it.”

Callen purses his lips and thinks for a long moment. Without a word, he moves towards the basement, her hand still in his.

“Wh—what are we doing down here?”

“Here,” he says, his hand sweeping around the mini-Ops, “we’re G and Nell.”

"I thought it was a bad idea to mix cover and not?”

“It is, but because you don’t really have a cover, I don’t think we can avoid it. So let this be our haven,” he explains. “Now, about kissing.”

She flinches again and Callen frowns. “Nell, it’s not a bad word. Or a bad thing.”

“No, I know, I just—this is _way beyond_ awkward,” she sighs, pulling her hand from his grasp and pacing the room. “But, you’re an adult. I’m an adult. We can talk about this like adults, right?”

He nods, then starts again. “Kissing.” He waits and Nell doesn’t flinch. “Yes, it can help our cover marriage, but we both need to be perfectly aware of what we’re doing and why.”

“You mean that it isn’t real.”

“Right. We both have to be on the exact same page about this or someone’s going to get hurt.” He’s very careful not to say “you’re going to get hurt” because he’s not entirely sure he can remain unscathed in this situation, either. Not that he’s going to tell her that.

Nell nods, arms crossed. She exhales slowly. “Okay. Okay.”

“Okay, what?”

“Okay, I get it. I can do that.”

“So, let’s try it.”

There’s a shocked silence and Callen would be amused at Nell’s wide eyes if he wasn’t so concerned about this whole fake relationship falling apart.

“What?” Nell’s voice is almost a squeak. “Right now?”

“No time like the present.” Callen moves closer to her. He frowns again when she steps back. “I won’t push you, but I’m thinking it’d be better if our first kiss was on our own terms and not forced by circumstance with, possibly, an audience.”

Nell looks up and meets his eyes. Callen steps closer and takes her hands, then waits. He doesn’t want to press when she’s not ready and risk damaging their mission.

“I…understand that and I agree with you. It’s just…”

“Tell you what,” Callen says, dropping her hands. “You lead.”

“Me?”

Callen nods. “I said I wouldn’t push and I won’t. But this is also part of the mission. So, it’s up to you.”

She’s quiet for a long moment, wringing her hands. “You’re right. You’re right. Okay. A kiss.”

Callen quirks an eyebrow but stays where he is and waits for her. She moves towards him and he’s suddenly caught by her eyes. There’s an intensity in them he’s never seen before and he’s surprised to find his breath catch.

Nell puts her hands on his shoulders and he instinctively leans down. Their faces are mere inches apart and he sees her eyes flick to his lips and back. Callen closes his eyes and leaves it all up to her.

“I’m sorry.”

His eyes snap open at her words.

“I’m sorry,” she repeats.

Callen frowns, but then Nell is pushing away from him and practically sprinting up the stairs. He turns his head to follow her with his eyes and blinks in bewilderment as he hears a door slam.

Callen sucks in a breath. “Okay…”

* * *

Nell Jones has never been so mortified in her life. She leans against the bedroom door and slowly slides down it to sit on the floor. She buries her head in her arms as they rest on her knees.

“I can’t believe I just did that,” she says aloud.

What if she’s just ruined the mission? Worse, what if she’s just ruined her working relationship with Callen? Would he force her out of OSP? Or out of NCIS all together?

“Nell?”

She practically jumps out of her skin. She hadn’t expected him to be right outside the door, although she’s not exactly sure what she thought he’d do otherwise.

“You want to tell me what’s going on?”

His voice is neutral and friendly. There’s no anger or disappointment or accusation or _anything_ in his tone. It’s just Callen and it makes her feel that much more terrible.

“Um, not really.”

A beat passes.

“Okay, let me put it another way. I need you to tell me what’s going on.”

“I know,” she replies and she’s ashamed to hear a whine in her tone.

She knows she has to tell him, she just doesn’t know how. The words bounce around in her brain in a jumbled mess. Finally, Nell pulls out her phone and starts typing.

* * *

Long moments pass and still there’s no word from the other side of the door. Callen opens his mouth a half dozen times but says nothing. Nell’s not a person of interest he’s questioning, so badgering isn’t going to get him anywhere.

His phone buzzes in his pocket and Callen pulls it out, wondering who’d be contacting him.

It’s Nell. She’s sent him a text.

As he reads it, he hears her get up and walk away from the door. He reads the words several times before her meaning really sets in.

_”I don’t think I can pretend.”_

Callen’s surprised by Nell’s words, but he’s even more surprised by his reaction. He feels hope. He forces himself to push the feeling away, though. Now isn’t about him. He tries the doorknob and, even though it’s unlocked, knocks before opening it.

What he finds on the other side unsettles him: Nell is packing.

“What are you doing?”

She jumps slightly but she continues putting her clothes into a suitcase.

“I’m packing.”

“Why?”

“Because I can’t do this.”

“Yes, you can.”

“No, I can’t!” she yells, unceremoniously cramming her clothes into the suitcase and slamming the lid. “I should have realized it before this all started that I wouldn’t be able to do this. I’m sorry. I’ve…I’ve ruined the mission.”

Nell’s trying to zip the lid shut but there are pieces of clothing sticking out making it impossible to close. Callen reaches out and places a hand on hers.

“I’m so stupid,” she mutters, but she stops moving.

“No, you’re not. If anyone’s to blame for this situation it’s me. Or Hetty. Or Vance. Not you.”

Nell doesn’t say anything so Callen continues.

“You’re not trained to be an undercover agent. It’s not reasonable for us to put you into a deep cover assignment, especially one that forces you to be in a fake relationship with another person, without any training, Nell. And it’s not like you really had a choice.”

After a long moment, she finally speaks. “Regardless, you know now. So, we can’t possibly continue the mission.”

“Sure we can.”

Her eyes jump to his and then immediately away again.

Callen suppresses a sigh. “Are you saying this would be easier if you hated me?”

“I…well…I guess not.”

“Nell, look at me.”

Slowly, she raises her eyes to his and keeps them there. Callen tries to keep his features neutral.

“You’re worried that you won’t be able to separate the cover from reality?”

She nods.

“That if we pretend to be in love, you’ll develop feelings for me?”

Nell nods again, eyes blinking rapidly, but she holds his gaze.

Callen’s voice drops to almost a whisper. “That once the mission is over and we stop pretending, I’ll break your heart?”

This time she does look away and he lets her, but only for a moment. Callen touches her chin lightly with a finger and she looks at him again. He sees vulnerability in her eyes and it unnerves him. Nell’s one of the strongest, most confident people he knows. To see her like this makes him want to comfort her, protect her from the world—from him.

“I will _never_ lie to you about any feelings between us, okay? Mission or not.”

“But you don’t want me,” she protests. “How will we maintain our cover for the mission?”

Callen chooses to ignore the first part of her comment. After all, he just promised not to lie to her and right now he’s not ready to acknowledge, at least to her, any feelings he might have.

“We’ll figure it out. Our marital relations are no one else’s business, so we’ll keep it that way."

He can tell she’s almost convinced, if still a little embarrassed.

“Nell, you’re the right person for this job. The _only_ person. I’m here to help you and protect you, if necessary. I still think we have a good shot at completing the assignment, don’t you?”

Nell looks him earnestly in the eyes and he can see her confidence building back up. He smiles reassuringly at her and is rewarded with her normal bright smile in return.

“Yes, I think so, too.”

“Good, I hoped so,” he smiles at her. “You should probably unpack. It’s getting late.”

She turns away again, the tips of her ears going pink.

“Nell, what happened tonight was a necessary step, but we don’t ever have to talk about it again if you don’t want to.”

“Thanks, Callen,” she murmurs. “For everything.”

He drops her hands and squeezes her shoulder reassuringly before turning to leave the room.

“Good night, Mrs. Chapman.”

“Good night, Mr. Chapman.”


	9. Chapter 9

It was only a matter of time before another crisis popped up at work. When Callen walks in on Monday morning, there’s a very irate software manager yelling in Terri’s office.

“What’s going on?” Callen asks Burke, who’s standing just within earshot sipping his coffee.

“Eh, Pierce is pissed because management won’t hire a replacement for Wiles.”

“Wiles? That was weeks ago.”

“Hence, why Pierce blew a gasket and threw his laptop across the room.”

“Ah, and hence why he’s now in Terri’s office,” Callen muses. “Does she think he’s a security threat?”

“Hell if I know,” Burke answers, tossing his empty cup into the recycling. “But HR and the VP’s office are in there, so someone thinks it’s serious. Let’s go see if we can help.”

Pierce is still yelling when Burke and Callen walk around the corner, stopping to overtly listen. Terri sees them but doesn’t motion them on, so they take that as an invitation to enter the office. Paulette Smithby, the head of HR is there along with Davis Mathieson, no doubt being the VP’s ears.

“Mr. Pierce, I understand your frustration,” Terri tries to soothe.

“Tch, I doubt it,” he spits out.

“But vetting new employees always takes a long time and Wiles was in a very specialized field,” Terri goes on. “Intelligence analysts are in high demand these days. Finding one qualified to work here, much less with a clearance high enough takes time.”

Callen suddenly gets a very, very bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. He is entirely unsurprised to see Mathieson staring right at him.

“Actually, I believe we may have a solution,” Mathieson pipes up.

Terri glances at Mathieson. “What?”

“Mr. Chapman, isn’t your wife an intelligence analyst?”

There is absolutely no sound whatsoever for a very long time.

“Oh, that’s right,” Terri finally says. 

“Why didn’t you bring this up before?” Smithby asks.

“I figured it was a non-starter,” Callen responds. “You know, conflict of interest and all.”

Smithby shakes her head. “Oh, we have tons of forms and procedures for that. If she’s qualified and she can start immediately, we may be able to help Mr. Pierce out sooner rather than later.”

“Then it’s settled,” Matheison says.

“Well, we’ll have to look over her files, but I don’t see a problem, do you, George?” Terri asks.

Callen’s caught with five sets of eyes staring at him. “Not at all.”

* * *

“They want to hire me?”

“I don’t like this, Nell.”

“Yeah, but, really?”

They’re in the basement and Nell has mixed feelings about what Callen just told her. He’s been pacing the room for the last several minutes but he suddenly stops.

“You want to do this?” he asks.

“Well, I’d be closer to the data, right?”

He just stares at her.

“And, I wouldn’t really be doing undercover work, right?”

“I _really_ don’t like this,” Callen reiterates.

Nell moves to him and puts a hand on his arm. “This might be the break we need. I’m starting to get a pattern, but there are still things that aren’t coming through and you’ve done a great job gathering intel, but maybe it’ll be easier if I’m right there?”

Callen sighs and runs a hand over his head. “Probably.”

“Besides, how much safer can I get? You can check on me all the time.”

* * *

Callen doesn’t get to interact much with Nell at work on her first few days since she still has to go through new employee orientation. Plus, because they needed her quickly, they also start her looking at Wiles’s data immediately. Landon Pierce, her manager, has high hopes for her and Callen is amused when Pierce seeks him out.

“Thank you, Mr. Chapman, thank you!”

“For?” Callen asks, confused.

“Your wife!” he exclaims. “Oh, that sounds wrong. I mean she’s amazing! It only took her a couple hours to pick up where Rick left off.”

He can’t help but smile. “Yes, she is amazing. I’m glad things are working out.”

Pierce walks off, quite happily, and Callen returns to his work. And he is actually working, which is kind of a novelty. Now that Nell has direct access to the same intelligence he does, he can focus on the actual internal goings-on of the company. That’s one area he hasn’t been able to spend as much time on and he’s kind of grateful for it because he’s getting tired of dealing with Burke’s messes.

* * *

By the end of the first week, Nell is well settled in at her cubicle. Callen stops by at least once a day, which she’s actually grateful for since she's both looking into the data Wiles was analyzing, which is extremely boring, and digging into other data she'll have to wade through later for their mission. She knows how focused she can get and clearly, Callen does, too, because he always seems to stop by just when she needs a break and they spend a couple minutes walking around the building at that time.

Midway through her second week, Nell stumbles onto something interesting. Nell checks her findings three times before calling Callen.

“Norah? What’s up?”

“Hi. So, if I had a potential cyber-security issue, do I report that to you, first?”

She hears him breathing for a few moments. “I’ll be right there.”

A few minutes later, Callen shows up with Angela Carter on his heels.

“Norah, you remember Angela, head of IT?”

“Oh, yeah. You make a mean margarita.”

Angela groans. “God, I hope I didn’t make a fool out of myself.”

“No more than I,” Nell admits.

Angela flashes her a grin. “Anyway, George said you have a potential cyber-security issue?”

Nell nods and makes some space at her workstation. Callen finds two extra chairs and they all crowd around her terminal.

“So, Landon has me working on some overdue data mining projects,” Nell starts.

“Ugh, I’m so sorry you got stuck with that,” Angela interjects. “I’ve heard about those.”

“It’s not too bad.”

Angela gives her a look.

“Well, okay, it is pretty terrible, especially since it’s hardly been touched since, uh, Wiles’s thing,” Nell admits. “But it gives me an opportunity to learn the infrastructure. There’s an off-site data center, right?”

“Correct. Our main server farm is here, but the off-site one is for backups.”

“Well, the amount of data going to the data center doesn’t match what’s going to the backup.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Angela muses, frowning. “Show me?”

Nell hits a few keystrokes on her terminal and shows Angela several data transfers that are easily three times larger than they need to be.

“At first I thought maybe we were having connectivity issues,” Nell says.

“Oh, you thought it was a retry cycle?”

“Uh huh, but I checked the router logs and at no point was there a loss of connectivity.”

Angela looks between Nell and Callen. “Damn, girl, I wish I had two of you in IT.”

Nell only smiles and Callen hides a grin behind his hand. They both know Nell has access to Eric’s tools and he's been sending new things for Nell to try on the company’s network to monitor their security and traffic.

“Who has access to the off-site data center?” Callen asks.

Angela ticks off groups of people on her fingers. “Me, a couple other senior IT staff, and the security staff. We don’t go there often, just when the drives need to be replaced and sent to Titanium Storage for records management.”

“I’ll have my team look into this,” Angela says to Nell. “Tracking down where the extra bytes are coming from is going to take some time, though. Our data center here is pretty big, but the off-site one is bigger.”

“I can help with that,” Nell suggests. “I mean, if it’s allowed. Maybe starting from the off-site location would help?”

“Oh, that would be a great help.” Angela turns to Callen. “Think you could clear it with Terri?”

Callen shrugs. “I’m sure it’s no problem. Let me give her a call.”

Angela turns her attention back to Nell. “I can have Andrew, my senior tech, meet you there tomorrow morning.”

“Sure. That will give you and your team time to figure out if there’s anything obviously going wrong on this side, right?”

“Exactly,” Angela says. “If there’s a data leak, or even if there isn’t, we should have caught this. I owe you a drink, Norah.”

“Just not one of your margaritas, I don’t think my liver could handle it.”

* * *

The following morning, Callen wakes up with an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. He can’t pinpoint the source, which makes him even more anxious.

“Something wrong?” Nell asks. She’s waving a mug of coffee at him and he belatedly realizes she’s been talking at him for the past several moments.

“Sorry, I just feel like something is off.”

She tilts her head in question but he shrugs.

“I can’t think of what it might be. It’s probably nothing.”

“So, I was thinking that we could carpool today.”

Callen’s caught off guard by the change in subject. “Don’t you have to go to the off-site data center today?”

She nods.

“Ah, you want to get there early.”

Nell nods again, smiling brightly.

“I like the way you think,” Callen says, grinning at her. “What time is IT Guy meeting you there?”

“Andrew,” she supplies. “Angela said he’d meet me there at 9am. I checked e-mail earlier and there wasn’t anything obvious going on at the main site, so, now it’s our turn.”

“What do you think it is?”

Nell shrugs, taking a sip of coffee. “Hard to say, but I’m thinking whether or not we find something, I can find a way to leave a little something behind.”

“You’re devious, you know that?”

“I like to think I’m resourceful.”

Callen chuckles. “And I bet Eric is one of your resources.”

Nell puts a finger to her lips. “Now, now, a girl has to keep some secrets.”

“Uh huh. Right.” He shakes his head in amusement. “Okay, let’s get going.”

The ride to the off-site data center is short and uneventful. Nell seems at ease, but the anxiety in Callen’s gut is still there.

“Want me to stay until Andrew shows up?” he asks as they pull up.

“Nah, it’s only an hour. And he can give me a ride back.” Nell grabs her things and steps out of the car.

“Norah.”

Nell pokes her head back in. “Hmm?”

“Be careful.”

“Always,” she replies, giving him a big smile.

He watches her go into the building, a non-descript commercial site on a quiet corner, and drums his fingers on the steering wheel for a few moments before putting the car in gear.

“I have a bad feeling about this.”

* * *

Nell steps into the backup data center and takes a moment to get her bearings. She’s been in the main data center, but the off-site one is much bigger. Fortunately, server farms are pretty much all the same: rows and rows of cabinets.

She plans to use one of the many terminals in the room adjacent to the main server room to start monitoring the system and, maybe, leave a port open for Eric to tap into from time to time.

The moment she opens the door to the main server room, Nell knows something is wrong. The lights, which are motion-sensitive, aren’t on, so she’s fairly certain no one else is there. But it’s way too warm. All server rooms have an excess of cooling, so she expected it to be nearly frigid.

She takes a step in and the lights closest to her turn on, causing the rest to cascade. There’s one block of lights that stays off, though.

“I’ll just check this out before calling someone,” she mutters. After all, it’s possible there’s a cooling malfunction or something equally plausible and the monitoring station just hasn’t noticed, yet.

Nell walks to the quad of cabinets with no lights and tries to figure out what’s different. She doesn’t see anything obvious, so she starts opening doors. 

Everything looks normal until she gets to the fourth cabinet. The door isn’t shut quite right and when she opens it, she discovers why. There’s something attached to the middle power supply. And it has a timer. With five seconds left.

“Oh, shit!”

Nell runs.

* * *

The further Callen gets from Nell, the worse he feels. Clearly, his subconscious thinks something is going to go wrong at the off-site data center, but what could it possibly be? Frustrated, Callen takes the next opportunity to U-turn and heads back the way he came. Even if he went to work, he’d be distracted and unable to focus until Nell arrived.

“I’ll just go and check for myself. And tell her—tell her what, exactly, genius?”

Callen can’t think of an excuse and decides to just go with the truth: he felt uneasy leaving her alone in an unfamiliar location.

“Right. That’ll go over well.”

He doesn’t have another chance to think about how Nell will react because just as he turns the corner and sees the building, several windows blow out.

Callen curses and floors it for the last couple blocks. He barely waits for the car to stop moving before jumping out and into the building.

There’s smoke and glass everywhere. He uses his sleeve to try to block the fumes with little success.

But Callen doesn’t care. He doesn’t care that he should be ducking down low to reduce the amount of smoke he’s inhaling. He doesn’t care that he left the car idling or that he should be calling 911. All Callen cares about is finding Nell.

* * *

Nell is in pain and lots of it. She just can’t figure out where because it sort of feels like everywhere.

Her head hurts and she’s pretty sure there’s something wrong with her hearing. She’s a little afraid she’s gone blind because she’s also pretty sure she’s blinking but she can’t see a damn thing.

She tries to remember what happened. She remembers Callen dropping her off at, oh right, the off-site data center. She remembers realizing there was something wrong when she opened the door to the server room. She remembers finding the cabinet with the weird thing attached—

A bomb. It had to be. The numbers were counting down and, on instinct, she ran. She’d made it to the server room door before something behind her made her hit it face first.

“Get up,” she tells herself. “Get up, Nell! You have to get out.”

But for some reason, Nell can’t figure out which way is up. Every way she moves just hurts or seems somehow wrong. She thinks she’s moving her feet, pushing herself along the floor, but whether or not she’s actually going in the right direction is beyond her.

“Come on, Nell! Nell!”

It takes her a moment to realize someone else is calling her name. Everything sounds distorted, like she’s underwater, but she can almost hear a voice that isn’t hers.

“Over here!” she tries to yell, but it ends up being caught in her throat and she’s coughing and coughing and coughing.

“Nell!”

Someone grabs her and she has never been so happy to see—well, hear—Callen in her life. She clutches at him and he pulls her close.

“Call—“

Nell’s words are cut off because Callen’s lips are on hers. Callen is _kissing_ her. He pulls away and she thinks she may have whimpered in protest. She blinks rapidly, thankful that she can see him now, and she’s stunned by the concern in his eyes. Nell reaches a hand up to his face and Callen takes it, pressing it to his cheek. 

“I’ve got you.”

And then the world explodes again and Nell is dimly aware of Callen covering her with his body before they’re both flung violently across the room and everything goes black.


	10. Chapter 10

Consciousness comes slowly to Callen. The first thing he notices is the smell of something antiseptic. Then, he hears beeps.

Hospital.

The word floats around in his brain. He’s in a hospital. Why is he in a hospital?

Memory comes flooding back and Callen nearly bolts upright, restrained only by a pair of very strong hands pushing him down.

“Easy there, partner.”

Callen blinks several times to clear his vision and his eyes focus on Sam. Sam’s there and he’s wearing what appears to be scrubs.

“I take it visiting hours are over?” Callen croaks out, eyes taking in everything he can see from his position. The lights are off and the window is dark. It must be late.

“It’s 3am. Only you would wake up in the dead of night, G.”

Callen flails again, nearly ripping the IV out of his hand as he tries to sit up even a little bit. “Ow. Where’s Nell?”

“Take it easy,” Sam hisses.

Sam is staring at him intently and when Callen acquiesces, Sam stands up and gestures to the other occupant of the room. Nell is in the adjacent bed.

“Asleep or unconscious?”

“Asleep and sedated. She has a mild concussion and a fractured left arm, cuts and bruises, too. But she was working herself into a frenzy when you wouldn’t wake up,” Sam explains.

Callen takes several deep breaths, calming himself down now that he can see Nell. That’s when he notices he’s sore all over.

“I feel like I got hit by a door,” he winces, rolling his right shoulder.

“That’s because you did get hit by a door,” Sam replies, taking a seat beside Callen’s bed. “Several. The doors on the cabinets closest to you blew off when the second explosion hit—you took the brunt of it. They may have saved your life, actually, although you do also have some bruised ribs. I’m surprised you didn’t break anything.”

Callen grimaces. “Second explosion. Someone wanted to make sure the servers were destroyed.”

Sam nods. Both of them turn to look at Nell.

“If I hadn’t gone back…”

“G.”

“She shouldn’t be on this case, Sam.”

Sam levels him with a look. “And you were going to stop her how?”

Callen rolls his eyes. “She should be taken off the case. It’s too dangerous.”

“Right, I want to be there when you tell her that.”

Seconds tick by with only the sound of the machinery.

“Damn it.”

“At least you know you’re on to something?”

“If that’s supposed to make me feel better, it’s not working.”

Sam just shakes his head, then looks between Callen and Nell.

Callen narrows his eyes. “What?”

“She was pretty concerned about you.”

“And?”

Sam just stares.

“ _What?_ ”

“What’s going on with you two, G?”

“Nothing, Sam.” 

Sam shakes his head again. “Yeah, not buying it.”

Callen tries to shrug, but ends up wincing in pain instead. “We’re just friends. That’s it.”

“And you?”

“And me, what?”

“Stop playing dumb, you know what I’m talking about.”

Callen and Sam enter into some sort of staring contest for a long moment. Callen’s the first to look away, his eyes landing on Nell’s sleeping form.

“I don’t know.”

“Well, that’s a start.”

Callen raises an eyebrow at his partner.

“This could be good for you, G. You always did say you attracted the intellectual type.”

Callen scoffs. “This is so not the time to be pursuing a relationship of any sort.”

“Maybe not,” Sam shrugs. “But maybe it’s a good time to think about whether or not she might be the one for you.”

“What’s gotten into you, Sam?”

“Let’s just say getting blown up will give you guys some perspective. Don’t wait.”

* * *

They’re released from the hospital after two days, but ordered to stay home the rest of the week. Callen has done the recovery thing more times than he’d like to admit, so he expects the soreness and inability to do everything he used to do. Nell is not and it worries him.

Terri picks them up from the hospital and drives them home. When they get there, Callen’s already bracing himself against the seat and door to lever himself out of the vehicle without using back muscles he knows he’s not ready to use. As he hobbles to the other side of the car, Nell is still struggling with figuring out how to exit the car.

“Do you guys need any help?” Terri asks, concern in her eyes.

“I’m good.” Nell’s response is immediate, but judging from the grimace on her lips, Callen knows better.

“Thanks, Terri. I think we can manage.”

Terri shifts from foot to foot. “George, Norah—I just want you to know that we will do everything we can to figure out who did this.”

Callen nods. “I know you will.”

“No, I mean it.” There’s an uncharacteristic waver in her voice. “This—I know we’ve had a couple odd incidents but this? No, there’s something else going on.”

Callen nods again and he’d discuss the point more with Terri but he’s more concerned about Nell and her futile movements.

“Take my hand,” he murmurs.

“No, I can—“

“Norah.”

Callen’s tone is gentle and when she looks up at him, he pleads silently with her. A beat passes and Nell takes his proffered hand. Carefully, he helps her out of the car and tucks her by his side.

“At least let me help you to the door…”

“Thanks for the offer, but I think we need to do this ourselves,” Callen says. “Don’t worry, we’ll find our way inside, probably take some painkillers, and pass out.”

“Okay. Well, call me if you need anything. And I mean anything, George. And you, Norah,” Terri instructs. “And you are not to come back to work—or even check work e-mail or phone calls—until at least next Monday. And only if you’re sure you’re feeling better.”

“Yes, mom,” Callen and Nell say in unison.

Terri smiles, genuinely, and runs a hand through her hair. “You kids get some rest.”

They wait for Terri to drive off before turning to the long sidewalk to the house.

“Why does this walkway look about a mile long?” Nell asks with a sigh.

“Because it’ll feel like we tried to sprint it by the time we get to the house,” he answers. “Part of the reason I wanted you to hold onto me is because we’ll need to help each other get to the house. My leg started cramping up in the car, so this is going to be interesting.”

“Oh. Well. That makes me feel better.”

He looks down at her quizzically.

“I thought I was the only one who felt like they were going to fall right over after standing up.”

Callen chuckles. “Welcome to recovery. Ready?”

Nell nods and, together, they slowly make their way to the house.

Even though he expects it, by the time they make it to the porch they’re moving at hardly more than a snail’s pace and limping considerably.

“Can we take a break?” Nell asks.

“Inside. Let’s make it inside and we can collapse.”

“Deal.”

The porch steps are the first major obstacle and they manage to push and pull each other up them. Callen’s careful not to jostle Nell’s bad arm and he can tell she’s trying not to press too much on his bruised ribs. Callen leans most of his weight on the front door as he fishes the keys out of his pocket, shifting to the door frame when he opens it.

At this point, they’re both more than willing to sit down. Except, of course, that it’s difficult to do that without falling down and that isn’t an option because it would hurt too much.

Callen and Nell’s eyes meet. “Stairs.”

A dozen more awkwardly shuffling movements and they gingerly lower themselves onto the carpeted steps.

“Why does this hurt so much?” Nell gasps.

“We got blown up.”

Nell pauses. “Never doing that again.”

Callen’s lips quirk. “We can only hope.”

Nell sighs loudly. “I think your idea of painkillers and sleep sounds really good about now.”

“Yeah.”

Silence falls between them and neither of them move.

“We’re just going to lie here for a while, aren’t we?”

“Yep.”

“I think I’m okay with that.”

An hour later, they’ve managed to take their painkillers and get upstairs. Neither of them cares enough about appearances to do anything other than crawl up the stairs which, oddly enough, seems to work better than being fully upright. 

In a burst of energy, Nell makes it all the way to the master bedroom and Callen can hear her contented sigh when she lies down on the blissfully soft mattress. Callen, meanwhile, is still at the upper landing and he’s not very inclined to move for a while. If ever.

“You still alive out there?” she calls.

“Unfortunately.”

He hears her giggle and he smiles at the sound. The past few days have been hard on them both, but he’s particularly worried about her. He wasn’t lying to Sam when he said she shouldn’t be on this case. The fact that someone would go through the trouble of blowing up an entire data center speaks volumes to how serious they are. He’s still mad at himself for letting her go in by herself. If he hadn’t gone back, if he’d lost her—

Callen shakes his head, unwilling to think of the “what if-”s, much less the other implications of what happened. Slowly, he army crawls his way to the master bedroom and parks himself just outside the door. He listens for a moment, satisfied when he hears Nell’s even breathing, and allows himself to relax. 

He’s startled awake by an unknown sound and Callen is surprised to see the windows are darker. He must have fallen asleep, which isn’t too surprising. He tries to figure out what woke him when the noise happens again. It sounds like a whimper.

Carefully, he sits up. His muscles are even stiffer from lying on the floor, but he doesn’t care. Using the door frame as a support, Callen hauls himself upright and gets to Nell’s bed side, ignoring his protesting muscles and ribs.

He waits. Nothing happens. But just as he’s about to turn away, she cries out in her sleep and it’s such an anguished, pained sound, Callen can’t help but reach out to comfort her.

“Wha—Ow.” Nell jerks awake at his touch. 

“You were having a dream,” he whispers, cupping her cheek, his thumb stroking her soft skin. “I’m here.”

She grabs his hand and holds it to her. In the dim light, he can barely make out her eyes but he can tell they’re wide with fear, the lingering tendrils of whatever nightmare she was having still clutching at her.

“Stay.”

Callen goes utterly still, unsure if he really heard what she said. Her grip tightens and he’s almost convinced.

“Please stay with me.”

Without a second thought, Callen climbs over Nell and lies down on the other side of the bed. She curls into him, her nose pressed to his neck. It’s a movement of pure comfort and he’s surprised just how much more at ease he is as well. Within moments, her breathing evens out. Callen drops off to sleep not long after.

* * *

Nell Jones can’t move and she’s not really all that upset about it. 

When she woke, she was a little alarmed because there seemed to be a heavy weight on her, pinning her down. And then she realized that weight was breathing and she remembered.

She’d had a nightmare and Callen had woken her. She’d asked him to stay and he climbed into bed with her.

If circumstances were different, she’d have been deeply embarrassed by her behavior. She’s stronger than this. But this isn’t about strength or pride or anything else. It’s about pure human comfort. Judging by just how soundly Callen is sleeping, Nell guesses he needed it just as much as she did, still does.

So, she doesn’t really mind that he’s now sleeping _on top_ of her. Oddly, it makes her feel a little more secure rather than confined. Except for the teeny tiny fact that she really has to use the bathroom.

Moving slowly, partly because she doesn’t want to wake him and partly because moving any faster hurts too much, Nell manages to extricate herself from the bed and hobbles to the bathroom.

By the time she gets back, Callen has flipped over onto his back and is staring at the ceiling.

“You’re awake.” Her voice is raspy.

He looks at her and she can’t help but realize she likes the image of him in her bed. She pushes the thought away immediately, unwilling to think of the implications just yet.

“Do you want me to leave?”

Nell shakes her head. “No. Stay.”

Callen pats the bedside and Nell climbs back in. They meet halfway, curling into each other again, and stay that way for the rest of the night.


	11. Chapter 11

Callen has had bruised ribs, even broken ones, before. He doesn’t remember them hurting this much. He tries in vain for the third time to get his shirt on before he gives up. He’ll figure it out later.

“Callen?” Nell’s voice floats from the bathroom.

He pads to the doorway and pokes his head in. She’s standing in the middle of the room in just a towel, a dejected look on her face.

“What’s wrong?”

And then she says the one thing he never thought he’d hear Nell Jones say. At least, not willingly. “I need help.”

She waves her left arm, which is in a splint, and he understands. He thinks about the situation for a moment and makes a suggestion. “Do you think you can get into your swimsuit?”

Nell nods, and a few minutes later, they’re in the shower in their swimsuits, her left arm wrapped in plastic to protect the splint.

As the warm water washes over them, Callen can see the cuts and bruises on her body. He feels anger well up inside him as well as remorse. She’s too young to have to go through this. Nell’s seen more, experienced more, in a few days than most people do in a lifetime. Callen can’t help but feel responsible, as if there was some way he could have protected her. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

“What for?” She’s facing away from him, not looking at him.

Callen wraps an arm lightly around her and hugs her. “For not being there.”

“But you were,” she retorts, turning to look up at him. “You showed up in time.”

“I should have been there sooner.”

She shakes her head sharply. “There’s no way you could have known. This isn’t your fault, G.”

They stare at each other for a long moment. Nell moves her good arm and lays her hand flat on his chest over his heart.

“You got hurt, too,” she whispers.

Before he can respond, Nell turns away and hands him the bottle of shampoo. Callen takes it from her and starts the process of washing her hair, careful not to get any suds in her eyes. He runs his hands over her head, gently massaging her scalp, wishing his touch could wash away the pain as well as the grime. It isn’t until he’s rinsing her hair and all the shampoo is out that he realizes she’s crying.

Nell doesn’t protest when he turns her around and embraces her. She wraps her good arm around him and lets her tears mix with the water spraying over them. Callen says nothing, has no words to say, but holds her and offers whatever support she’ll take from him.

* * *

When they exit the shower, Nell feels more refreshed than she has in a long while. It feels like her soul got a good cleansing, too, and she knows she has Callen to thank for it.

“Thank you,” Nell blurts out.

Callen smiles at her. “It was no problem.”

“No, I mean—“

“I know.”

And she smiles back because she knows he understands.

“We’re in this together,” he continues. “We’ll figure this out.”

Nell has a pretty good idea he’s not just talking about the case, either. “We will.”

“In the meantime, I could use your help.”

“Oh, really?” she asks, eyes wide.

He picks up a shirt off the bed and offers it to her. “My ribs won’t let me move around like I used to, so getting dressed is more challenging than I thought.”

“I can do that.”

Nell takes the shirt and gestures for him to sit on the bed. With his cooperation, she carefully pulls it over his head and maneuvers it so he can get his arms through the sleeves more easily.

“What about you?” he asks.

Tilting her head in question, it takes a moment for Nell to understand his meaning. “Oh, you know, I don’t know. Um, let me try?”

He nods and Nell makes her way to the closet, closing the door so she can change. She manages without many aches, although she opts for some loose sweat pants and a tank top which are easier to put on. Callen’s still sitting on the bed when she comes back out.

“Success,” she proclaims with a smile.

“Good for you. Now, I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. What do you say to ordering pizza?” he asks, slowly rising. Nell frowns at the grimace on his face.

“Sounds good. Are you okay?”

“I’ll live.”

She’s skeptical, more so when he limps heavily to the door.

“You can lean on me,” she says.

“Thanks, but I can manage.”

“I know. But you don’t have to be the strong one all the time. Let me help you.”

Callen pauses at the top of the stairs and regards her. She watches as he has some conversation with himself and then he nods. Because she’s shorter than him, Nell positions herself a step above and slowly they make their way downstairs.

“Okay, I admit that wasn’t as bad as it could have been,” Callen acknowledges.

“We’re both learning,” Nell responds. “To rely on one another, I mean, and not just ourselves.”

“I just wish life lessons didn’t always hurt so much,” he groans as he settles himself down onto the couch. “Or maybe I’m just getting old.”

“I don’t think I should comment on that.”

Callen shoots her a look. “Just wait until you’re 30. The warranty on your knees expires first.”

Nell sinks onto the cushion beside him. “Great, I can’t wait. I guess this is just a preview of the rest of my life?”

“Something like that. Let’s order pizza.”

* * *

By the end of the week, they fall into a pattern. Callen helps Nell with whatever she can’t do with her fractured arm. Nell helps him maneuver around in ways that don’t make him compromise his ribs. It’s kind of nice and even though he’s pretty much stopped limping, he doesn’t stop leaning on her for support.

Callen’s open enough with himself to realize he’s been enjoying the closeness with her that their injuries have necessitated. Nell seems to be content continuing to be close to him, too, because she doesn’t stop trying to help him or just being nearby.

But despite their newfound closeness, they haven’t talked about the explosion beyond the facts or, more importantly, what happened after. Namely, when he kissed her.

Callen has had a lot of time to think about that kiss, but as well as he can read people, he absolutely can’t tell if Nell even remembers it happened. And he really wants to know, because he rather enjoyed that kiss despite the circumstances that pushed him to do it. The severity of the incident brought home just how much he wants to spend time with her on a more personal level.

The moment Callen stops lying to himself about his interest in Nell, he realizes he’s been fighting an attraction to her for a long time. Sam wasn’t wrong, Callen does attract—rather, prefers—a more intellectual type. Nell might not be a leggy blonde or brunette, but what she lacks in physical stature she more than makes up for in intelligence. Callen finds the fact that she can match and challenge him with her brain extremely scintillating.

And, given the way she reacts to him when he does something that brings him physically close to her, he’s pretty sure there’s some level of interest. He just can’t tell how much or if her interest is anything other than friendly. Does she view him as an older brother figure? Is she attracted to him like he is to her? Callen just doesn’t know and it bothers him.

They’re playing chess in the living room when Callen tries to broach the subject. Starting the conversation is harder than he thought it would be. He decides on: “We’ve never talked about how you felt about the explosion.”

Nell looks at him, confusion on her face. “Felt?”

“Yes, felt.”

After a long moment, she sighs, and starts fiddling with one of the pawns she’s taken from him. “Well, obviously, I was scared. I saw the timer and I just ran. I—I didn’t really think about anything. There wasn’t any life flashing before my eyes kind of stuff. I just—I was trying—“

“To get out?” he supplies.

“Yes, but it’s more than that.” Nell meets his gaze. “I was trying to get back to you.”

Hope swells within him and Callen stops breathing for a moment.

“And then I couldn’t move,” she continues, “but then you were there, and I was safe, and then the second explosion happened, and then you wouldn’t wake up and—“

Callen moves the chessboard aside and pulls Nell to him, wrapping her in his arms. He can feel her trembling and he chastises himself for being so blunt about an event that was clearly traumatic for her. Hell, it was traumatic for him.

“I’m right here,” he murmurs into her hair. He can feel her clutching at the front of his shirt, but she doesn’t say anything.

“I had a bad feeling that day and I’m glad I trusted my gut,” Callen says. “When I turned that corner and saw the windows blow out, I stopped thinking about anything other than trying to get to you, to get you out.”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

Nell looks up at him and he’s caught off guard by the raw emotion in her eyes. “For coming back for me.”

“You’re important to me.”

The words hang in the air between them, but Callen can’t read the expression on Nell’s face. Her eyes flick between his and she seems to come to some sort of decision.

“There’s something else I remember about that day,” she says and Callen feels anxiety build in his chest for reasons that have nothing to do with reliving the incident.

“Oh?”

She nods and he can’t help but look at her lips when she presses them together. “You kissed me.”

Callen’s eyes snap back up to hers. “I did.”

“Why did you kiss me?”

“Uh.” He blinks a couple times and is flabbergasted to realize Nell is actually confused by his actions that day. Or maybe she doesn’t want that kind of response from him. Callen tries to steel himself for disappointment.

Silence stretches uncomfortably between them and Nell is looking at him expectantly. This isn’t how he thought this conversation would go. Granted, he’s not exactly sure _how_ he thought the conversation would go, but this is definitely not it.

Callen opens and closes his mouth several times, trying to find the right words. Finally, he just settles on the most accurate. “It was an expression of my feelings for you.”

“Feelings?”

It’s almost comical, the completely dumbfounded look on Nell’s face, and Callen would laugh if he wasn’t more concerned that she thinks it doesn’t make sense for him to have feelings for her.

“Yes, feelings.”

“For me.”

“For you.”

“Just to be clear, we’re talking about, like, romantic feelings, right?”

“Yes.”

Nell just stares at him.

“Nell?”

“Are you sure you don’t mean Norah?”

Ah ha. Now he starts to understand. “Positive.”

“And you’re sure it wasn’t just the heat of the moment?”

Callen’s starting to feel frustrated. “Yes, I’m sure.”

“Oh. Well. Oh.”

Another beat passes.

“Was I out of line?” Callen finally asks, both dreading and needing an answer.

“Uh, what?”

Callen sits up straighter, keeping his arms around her but repositioning them. “Was I out of line for kissing you?”

He’s utterly fascinated by the way Nell’s cheeks flush and he can follow the blush to the tips of her ears.

“Um, no. I just wasn’t expecting you to, well, want me.”

Callen has no verbal response. Inside, an emotional dam seems to break and the hope he’d been trying to keep at bay—in case she didn’t share his feelings—comes rushing out. He’s overwhelmed by the feeling. At that moment, he doesn’t trust himself to speak. Instead, he leans in close and kisses her softly.

“Does that help?”

Her eyes are wide and she touches her lips with a finger. “Do that again?”

Callen grins and happily obliges.

They spend a long time exploring each other, but it’s abruptly cut short when Callen leans back on the couch which makes her lean on his torso and his still bruised ribs.

He gasps and sits up quickly, nearly making her tumble off his lap.

“Ow—“

“Sorry!”

“No, it’s okay.”

They stop moving, staring at each other, and then Nell starts giggling. She kisses his forehead and holds him close.

“I guess we’ll have to take it slow,” she says, running her fingers over his short hair.

“I guess so,” he agrees. “But I think I’m okay with that.”


	12. Chapter 12

By the time they return to work, both Callen and Nell are well on the road to recovery. Callen doesn’t limp any more, but his ribs are still tender. Nell’s splint is off, but she uses an arm brace to remind her not to lean on it or otherwise apply too much pressure for a little while longer.

Nell is more determined than ever to figure out what’s going on. Clearly, whoever is behind it believes she got close. She has to think it has something to do with the data transfers to the off-site data farm. Both she and Callen double their efforts, staying late most nights or finding ways to access the servers from home.

Unfortunately, neither option gives them much time to do anything more with their budding relationship, but they both realize solving the case before someone else gets hurt is more important.

They still enjoy some level of closeness though, and Nell is happy Callen sleeps in the bed with her rather than in the study. His presence is comforting and what sleep they do get is at least restful. Usually.

A couple weeks later, she bolts upright in the middle of the night. “Micro-transactions!”

“Wha—?” Callen looks up at her, bleary eyed.

“Why didn’t I notice this before?” she asks aloud, then turns to him. “Micro-transactions! That’s how the money is being siphoned off.”

Nell scrambles out of bed and practically sprints to their mini-Ops and logs in, looking for proof. She hears Callen stumble down the stairs and she waves excitedly at him.

“See? I couldn’t figure out why these invoices and financial transactions seemed wrong,” Nell explains. “But then I realized, they were off by tiny amounts, sometimes only a few cents, sometimes just a few dollars. Since the money didn’t all get transferred at once, I just assumed they were moving it to different buckets to cover other kinds of transactions.”

“But they weren’t?” he asks, clearly still waking up.

“No, they were, but the amounts were still off. There are thousands of micro-transactions per day, Callen.”

Suddenly, he stands up straight. “Thousands of tiny transactions of money moved surreptitiously to a different account? How much are we talking about here?”

Nell pulls up some spreadsheets and starts sorting the data, finding the discrepancies and adding them together. “I don’t have all the data, but what I have found amounts to about fifty million dollars.”

Callen whistles low, leaning over Nell’s shoulder to see what she’s found. “That is definitely embezzlement. Any idea who’s initiating it or where it’s going?”

Nell shakes her head. “No, but now that I know what’s happening we can try to track it. The loss of the backup data center was likely a way to try to hide these transactions. They didn’t originate from the main site.”

“Have they started up again?”

Nell taps a few keys on her workstation. “Yes, it looks like it. Just a few, but there’s definitely an uptick in activity from the main data hub.”

“Great work, Nell.” 

She smiles but is furiously typing away, trying to figure out where the money leads. She’s vaguely aware of Callen sitting at the other terminal, bringing up his own searches. Nell looks over when a flurry of typing comes from him.

“What are you working on?”

“Hmm?” he murmurs. “Oh, I was thinking I would check to see if any of the employees have had any interesting purchases or deposits lately.”

“Bank accounts?”

“And any other supplemental income they might have.”

Nell slowly turns her head and watches Callen’s profile. “Anyone ever tell you you’re sexy when you talk technical like that?”

A grin spreads on Callen’s face and Nell leans in. His terminal beeps before she can kiss him. They both turn to see what came up.

“Son of a bitch. Pierce.”

“Landon?” she asks, surprised. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“No, it doesn’t.” Callen stares at the numbers, thinking. “But it’s worth looking into.”

* * *

Nell is running numbers for Landon when he calls her into his office.

“Hi, Landon, what can I do for, you?” she asks.

“Norah, come in. I have a task for you.”

Nell takes a seat and looks at Landon expectantly. In the back of her mind, she wonders just what Landon is up to and she finds herself analyzing him from a different perspective now that she knows he’s been receiving suspicious financial deposits.

“Norah, first, I want to say thanks for all the hard work you’ve done. You’ve truly outdone yourself and surpassed all expectations,” Landon praises.

“Oh, well, thank you,” she replies, cheeks coloring. “I’m just doing my job.”

Landon smiles at her amiably and puts his hands on the table. “Since you’re ahead of schedule, I was wondering if you could do a little task for me.”

“Sure, what is it?”

“The VP’s office has had R&D working on a new data transmission system and we need some test data sent, received, and analyzed.”

Nell thinks about it for a moment then nods. “Okay, sounds simple enough.”

Landon grins. “That’s what I like about you, Norah, you’re always willing to try. I’ll send you the particulars. Just whenever you can get to it, okay?”

“Sure thing. Anything else?”

“Nope. That’s it.”

“Okay, then. I’ll see you later,” she responds, getting up to leave.

By the time she gets back to her desk, the instructions Landon has are in her Inbox. Scanning through it, it really is simple enough but Nell’s internal flags go up. It’s probably nothing, but there shouldn’t be any harm adding another layer of tracking to the data, right?

Silently, she thanks Eric for the plethora of tools he’s created to help her do just that. Quickly, Nell gets everything in place and sends the data Landon requested through the NCIS filters before utilizing R&D’s new data transmission system. She’s unsurprised to find that the data is encrypted, but she’s sure it’s nothing their automated tools can’t handle.

* * *

Callen’s doing his daily rounds when Burke catches up with him.

“Burke,” Callen says by way of greeting.

“Chapman.”

They walk in silence for the length of one hallway before Callen gets antsy. “Something I can do for you?”

“You recall Justin Tiller?”

“The guy who was hurt when I was hired on?”

“That’s the one.”

“What about him?”

“Well,” Burke drawls. “Seems his injuries were more severe than we thought, so he’ll be out a while longer.”

“That’s a shame,” Callen answers, checking a set of doors to a closed lab and ensuring it’s truly locked.

“Justin has a skillset that I think you can help with.”

Alarms go off in Callen’s head and he slowly turns to regard Burke.

“What are you getting at?”

Burke turns around and starts walking away. “We need to take care of a little problem.”

“What kind of problem?”

Rather than answer, Burke tosses Callen a small box. He’s rounded the corner and out of sight before Callen can open it.

He’s filled with apprehension as he opens the box. Inside is a card with an address and a suppressor.

“Shit.”

Callen glances at the address card and pauses. He knows this address. It takes him a moment to place it and when he does, he swears again.

* * *

Nell’s at her desk when Callen swings by.

“George, what are you doing here?” She hadn’t expected to see him.

“Got a minute?”

She nods, locks her station, and they find a quiet corner where they can talk in private.

“What’s going on?” She keeps her voice low.

“Landon’s in trouble,” Callen announces. “Do you know what he’s up to?”

Nell’s eyes widen. “No, there’s nothing. I mean, he just gave me a task to run data analysis on a new R&D transmission unit, but that’s nothing unusual.”

“What kind of data?”

“No idea. It’s encrypted but I’m saving it off so we can try to crack it later.”

Callen nods. “It might be nothing.”

“But it might be everything,” she suggests.

He nods. “I have to go take care of this, so I’ll be late.”

She grabs his hand and tugs him to her, kissing him softly. “Be safe.”

“You, too.”

* * *

Callen waits for Pierce to leave the office and follows a good distance behind. By the time he shows up, Burke is already there. He ignores the other man and heads to the house, bypassing the front door and going around the back of the building. 

“You want me to come in with you?” Burke asks.

“I can handle this, Burke.”

Burke nods and leans on the wall next to the back door. Callen knocks and Landon Pierce answers.

“What do you—“

Callen cuts him off, pushing into the house, door slamming behind him.

“What—“ Pierce tries again.

Callen puts a hand over his mouth and shoves him up against a wall.

“Listen to me carefully, Landon,” Callen hisses. “You’re in danger, but I’m here to help.”

Predictably, Pierce freaks out and starts fighting Callen. This actually works out since it causes Callen to struggle with the other man which he’s sure Burke can hear. He really doesn’t want to hurt Pierce, but if he doesn’t end this soon, it’ll probably happen. Quickly, Callen knees Pierce in the gut (in the back of his mind he wonders if the expression on Pierce’s face is what he looks like when Sam “goes easy” on him when they pretend to fight). Pierce goes down and Callen kneels on his back. Groaning, Pierce starts to struggle again when Callen draws his weapon and attaches a suppressor.

“Relax, I’m not going to shoot you,” he whispers. Of course, Pierce doesn’t believe it.

“Do you have a basement?”

Pierce keeps struggling. Callen increases the pressure with his knee. 

“ _Do you have a basement_?” he asks again.

Pierce shakes his head. “N—no.”

Nodding, Callen fires three rounds into the floor. Pierce flinches at every one.

“Stay here,” Callen instructs. He gets up slowly, making sure Pierce doesn’t try to attack him. The other man just nods, fear still in his eyes.

Callen steps outside and speaks to Burke. “It’s done.”

“Need any help with the cleanup?”

Callen shakes his head once.

Burke shrugs. “Good. See you tomorrow.” He offers a casual wave before heading back to his car.

Callen watches for a few seconds before heading back into the house. Sighing and running a hand over his head, he notices Pierce is still on the ground.

“You can get up, now.”

Slowly, Pierce sits up, looks at the bullet holes in the floor and then back at Callen. “Who _are_ you?”

“NCIS. I’ve been investigating this company for the past several months,” Callen explains. “Can you tell me why the company wants to kill you?”

Pierce wraps his arms around his torso and starts shaking. “God, I don’t know. All I was told to do was to encrypt some data in roundabout ways.”

“Told by whom?”

“Vice President Brockman. Well, his representatives at least,” Pierce answers. “But I didn’t do the work myself, I farmed it out. They gave me extra money to keep it discrete.”

A cold feeling drops into the pit of Callen’s stomach. “Who did you farm the work out to, Pierce?”

“Well, Wiles at first, and then—oh, god, Norah. I’m so sorry, George.”

“Pierce, stay here until another NCIS agent comes to get you. They’ll take you to a safe house. We need your testimony to get Brockman and his people. Do you understand?”

Pierce just stares at him. Callen kneels in front of the man and grabs him by the shoulders. “ _Do you understand?!_ ”

“Y—yes.”

Callen can’t get out of the house fast enough.


	13. Chapter 13

The doorbell rings and Nell is surprised to find Davis Mathieson on her front step.

“Davis? What are you doing here?”

“Hey, Norah,” he replies. He puts a foot in the doorway and leans up against the frame, effectively making it impossible for her to shut the door if she needed to. “I was just in the neighborhood and thought I’d stop by.”

“For what?” Nell tries to be civil, but Davis has always creeped her out and him just stopping by doesn’t help.

“Oh, you know, just to chat. Hey, is George around?”

“No, but he should be here any minute,” she lies, frantically trying to think of a way to get rid of him without pissing him off.

“Oh, that’s too bad, but I really wanted to talk to you,” he says, an overly friendly smile on his features.

“Uh, about what?”

“Can I come in?”

Nell starts to panic, because this conversation just feels all sorts of wrong but she can’t figure out why. “Actually, I’m kind of busy, so—“

“It’ll just take a minute.” And then he steps in so close to her Nell has to move back.

Nell takes a deep breath and plants her feet. “Davis, I’m sorry you came all this way but I really don’t have the time for this.”

“Surely you can make the time, now that I’m here?”

Davis grabbing her by the upper arm is his mistake. Nell slapping him hard across the face is hers.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Davis grinds out, flexing his jaw.

“I said—“

Nell’s words are cut off as Davis backhands her so hard she spins out of his grip and crashes to the floor, catching her forehead on the corner of the hallway table.

“See what you made me do, little lovely Norah?”

Nell’s eyes water from the pain and she feels blood dripping down her face. She desperately tries to clear her vision because she can hear Davis move towards her. Her options are few and none good. Even if she could get to her phone and dial out, Callen’s at Pierce’s on the other side of the city and by the time he got home it would be too late. Not that Davis would even let her reach her phone, much less make a call.

She’s scrambling backwards, away from Davis, when he catches up to her and grabs her painfully by the chin.

“Now, how about you and me have that chat I asked so nicely about?”

* * *

Callen breaks at least half a dozen California driving laws and he’s both grateful and surprised he doesn’t have the San Diego police chasing him down. Not that he wouldn’t mind their help.

Nell isn’t picking up her phone. Normally, that wouldn’t be cause for alarm, but given the information he just learned, there’s a good bet something else is going on.

He fishes out a burn phone from under the driver’s seat and dials the pre-programmed number.

“Ops,” Eric’s voice answers.

“Eric, Nell’s in trouble and there’s a slight possibility we’ve been burned.”

“Callen? What—er—hold on.”

If he wasn’t so focused on trying not to crash the car, Callen would have been highly amused at the frantic yelling he can hear Eric doing on the phone.

“Mr. Callen, what is the situation?”

Hetty’s even voice puts him at ease and he recounts the events of the day quickly.

“And Miss Jones?”

“She’s at home, but she’s not picking up her phone.”

The car roars through their neighborhood and Callen takes a corner too fast, driving half over the Johnston’s front yard, leaving deep gouges in the grass.

When it comes into view, he half expects to see the house in flames, much like the data center all those weeks ago, but what he does see sends chills down his spine.

“Shit, someone’s in the house!” His voice, though louder, is deceptively calm. “Hetty. Backup. Now.”

He doesn’t wait for an answer, barely taking the time to ensure his car stops moving before he jumps out and sprints across the yard to the already open door. An overwhelming sense of déjà vu nearly consumes him, but he pushes the feeling aside because he has to.

Just as he’s about to go in, Callen draws his sidearm and readies it, fearing the worst.

The front hallway table is askew and he sees drops of blood on the floor. They lead away from the door and towards the kitchen, so he follows the path. What he finds in the kitchen is so far outside the possibilities of what his mind was conjuring that Callen actually stumbles over his feet.

There’s a body on the kitchen floor but it’s not Nell’s, as he’d feared. It’s Davis Mathieson’s.

Nell is standing just in the middle of the kitchen, a cast iron frying pan in one hand and a very large kitchen knife in the other. Her forehead is bleeding, presumably from the table out front.

“Nell?”

“He—he—“

She’s gesturing with her weapons and that’s when he notices that not only does the knife blade have blood, but so does her hand from where she’s gripped it.

Looking down at Davis’s body, Callen’s training kicks into gear and he checks for weapons and a pulse.

“He’s alive.”

“He—he attacked me,” Nell says, voice shaky.

Carefully, Callen approaches her, wary of the knife she’s waving erratically.

“And you fought back?” he quietly asks.

She nods, eyes jumping all around the room. “He kept grabbing me and I kicked him in the gut and ran in here, picked up the first heavy thing I could find and hit him with it.”

Callen gently puts his hands on her shoulders. “I’m glad we have cast iron, then.”

She looks up at him and, as if realizing he’s there for the first time, unceremoniously drops both weapons and reaches for him.

Callen winces at the sound of the knife and pan hitting the tile floor but is just glad the knife clatters to the ground and not into either of them. He pulls Nell close and just holds her as she sucks in deep breaths.

They stand like that for who knows how long before Callen hears his phone beep. Fishing it out, he stares at the one word message.

“ _Vanguard_ ”

Callen relaxes slightly. 

“Vanguard?” Nell asks when her eyes focus on the screen.

“It means we should go to the safe house.”

Nell nods. She’s still looking in various directions and fidgeting, unable to stand still.

“I got blood on your suit,” she mumbles.

He looks down and sees bloodstains on his clothes. “It’s no big deal. I should take you to the hospital.”

“No!” she protests. “No, it’s okay. Just—let’s go to the safe house, first? Please?”

He doesn’t say anything for a long moment, concerned about her outburst, but her wounds aren’t serious and he’s just as eager as she is to get out of view. “Okay.”

* * *

The ride to the safe house is conducted in silence, but there’s a verbal assault happening inside Nell’s head.

Part of her is freaking out about what just happened, that she nearly killed a man with a frying pan and a kitchen knife. That part is also telling her she should get her wounds looked at in a hospital.

But there’s another part of her brain that doesn’t want to be swarmed by strangers. She just wants to be safe and she knows she’s safe with Callen.

Nell focuses on trying to figure out where they’re going. She can tell Callen’s deliberately taking a roundabout route, making sure they’re not being followed. They’ve doubled back at least five times, but she can also tell they’re getting closer to the ocean. Eventually, they reach a small beach house—a shack, really—that’s off the main road with a detached garage.

Callen goes in first, making sure the safe house is indeed safe, and signals for her to come in.

“Let me take a look at your wounds,” he says, taking her by her uninjured hand and leading her to the bathroom.

He closes the toilet lid and gestures for her to sit. He pulls a first aid kit from under the sink and sits on the edge of the bathtub.

“Sorry, this might sting a bit,” he apologizes as he pulls matted hair away from her head wound and swabs it with antiseptic. She hisses at the contact but tries not to move.

“Head wounds always bleed a lot,” she says, trying to fill the silence around them.

“True, but you’re also going to have a nasty bruise.”

Nell watches him as he works and is surprised at the anger on his face. “You’re mad.”

His eyes flick to hers before going back to her head wound. “You were attacked. Of course I’d be upset.”

“No,” she says, stilling his hands with hers. “You’re really mad.”

Callen puts the supplies down and cradles her face in his hands. “Yes, I’m mad,” he murmurs, eyes intense. “This is twice now you’ve been hurt—nearly killed—on this assignment. We’re clearly close to something, but what?”

She has no answer, so she doesn’t speak. Callen’s eyes flick between hers several times before he goes back to cleaning her head injury, then moving on to the cut on her left hand. When he’s done, he tries to leave, but she clutches at him.

“Don’t go.”

“Nell—“

Nell reaches up and puts a hand on his neck, pulling him down.

“I don’t want to wait anymore.”

* * *

If he had any protests or excuses, they die on his lips the second he comprehends her words. Instead, Callen kisses her, hard, and it’s as if a fire ignites between them. Hands remove clothing and caress exposed skin. Lips kiss everything, seeking the next delectable spot.

Shoes and pants prove to be a problem and they deal with it by falling unceremoniously into a heap on the floor with Nell on his lap. Somehow, he manages to extract a condom from his pocket and he feels an edge of the foil packet dig into his hand, practically burning into his skin in anticipation. They stare at each other and Callen’s breath is literally taken away by the absolute desire and _want_ in her eyes. He’s positive it’s mirrored in his.

Slowly, Nell leans forward and captures his lips again. She puts a hand against his chest and pushes. Callen takes her cue, pulling her with him as he lies back. As lust and need take over, a part of Callen’s mind observes that they haven’t even made it out of the bathroom.

* * *

Sometime later, they’re still on the floor, both breathing heavily. Nell’s lying on top of him, her head pillowed on his chest. She’s a little amazed at what just happened. She’s pretty sure she’s never had as intense of a sexual encounter before in her life and she wouldn’t be surprised if she never did again. Although, she’s up for an attempt with this particular man.

“Well,” Callen starts. Nell smiles at feeling the rumble in his chest. “That wasn’t quite how I thought that would go.”

She looks up at him, raising an eyebrow. “You’ve thought about this?”

He just stares at her and she laughs. Of course he’s thought about this. _She’s_ thought about this on many occasions.

Nell straddles his body and puts her hands on the ground beside his head, leaning down for a lingering kiss only pulling away when she feels his hands on her thighs.

“And how, exactly, did you think this would happen?” she asks with a wicked smile, moving against him and feeling him respond to her.

Callen groans and his arms wrap around her, holding her to him as he sits up. She clings to him, trailing kisses across his collarbone.

“I’d rather just show you,” he murmurs low in her ear. “Luckily, the first aid kit is very complete.”

Nell gasps, both from his words and from suddenly being in his arms as he stands. He snags the kit with one hand and then carries her to the bedroom, laying her gently on the mattress.

* * *

Callen holds Nell tight, lazily stroking her arm with his thumb. Sometimes she shifts, but otherwise they’re just enjoying each other’s company. It’s late, but he’s not sleepy and he’s pretty sure Nell isn’t, either.

“I can hear you thinking,” he says, dropping a kiss in her hair.

She sniffs in laughter, but says nothing. He waits patiently, knowing she’ll say something when she’s ready. 

“So,” she starts. “Sam managed to find someone to live his life with outside of work, why haven’t you?”

Callen’s hand pauses and then resumes what it was doing. He shrugs. “I’d like to discover my own life before starting one with someone else.”

“Will that change who you are? Answering all the questions about your past, I mean.”

He looks down at her and in the moonlight, he can just make out her eyes. Callen wonders where Nell is going with this line of questioning. “No, I guess not.”

She opens her mouth again and then closes it, sighing. “I’m sorry, I’m being nosy. Your personal life is, well, your personal life. It’s just—never mind.”

“Now _I’m_ curious. Go on,” he encourages.

“Well, it’s just that it seems to me that finding out about your past would be a journey you could share with another person. I mean, it could be nice having someone there, someone you trust, to help you look.”

“Are you offering?” He’s half joking. When he looks at her again, he’s completely taken by surprise by the earnest look on her face.

“Would you let me?”

They stare at each other, unblinking. It takes Callen a moment to understand the implications of Nell’s comment. He’s not so dense to think she’s only offering her skills as an intelligence analyst to help him dig up his past. No, Nell Jones is asking him to let her into his life—his real life.

“Yes.”

“I mean—wait—what?”

“Yes,” he repeats, because he’s just figured out why she’s asking. Nell wants to know if there’s room in his life for her and Callen realizes he wants to make room.

“Oh. Well. Okay, then.” She yawns loudly.

“We’ll talk about this later,” he promises, kissing her softly. “But for now, we need to get some sleep.”

Nell doesn’t answer because she’s already nodded off.

* * *

They get the all clear the following morning. Callen is curled around Nell when his phone buzzes. He feels her reach for it and tap it against his head.

“You’re not going to read it?”

“It’s your phone.”

Sighing, he takes it and then flops on his back.

“Hey, I didn’t say you could move,” Nell protests, turning over to curl back into him.

He chuckles and runs a hand through her hair as he reads the message.

“ _Warranty valid._ ”

“Anything interesting?” she mumbles into his neck.

“We’re not compromised.”

Nell raises her head. “Really? That’s surprising.”

“Maybe, maybe not. Pierce didn’t realize what was going on until I showed up. ”

“So, we go back?”

“We go back.” Callen puts his phone on the nightstand and pulls Nell close to him. “Later.”


	14. Chapter 14

The house is amazingly clean by the time they return. It’s as if nothing happened, though they both know the truth. Nell stands at the kitchen doorway, staring at the spot where Davis’s body was.

“What do you think they did with him?” she asks softly.

“Probably took him to a secure location for questioning after he’s been patched up,” Callen answers, coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her. She takes comfort in his embrace and leans back against him. “You won’t see him again.”

She turns in his arms and hugs him close. “So, what do we do now?”

“We wait,” Callen answers. “Eric’s been working the Brockman angle since yesterday. Hopefully he’ll have good news.”

She’s quiet for a long moment.

“What?” he asks.

“Do you think the Johnstons are pissed about their lawn?”

Callen laughs heartily and she grins up at him. “I think we should keep a low profile for a few days,” he responds.

She nods in agreement. “We need to hit up the store before we do that, though.”

* * *

Grocery shopping ends up being rather therapeutic for the both of them. It’s such a domestic activity that it allows them to calm down and bring some semblance of normalcy to their life.

Of course, a few extra items end up in the basket that wouldn’t normally be there. Callen doesn’t question it when not one, but two tubs of ice cream show up in the cart. They take a swing down the beer aisle and he snags a six pack for him. He’s a little surprised when Nell grabs her own.

At the self-checkout line, she disappears for a few minutes and just as he’s about to finish ringing up their goods, she comes back with a small box.

“You sure?” he asks.

She looks him in the eye and passes the box over the scanner. “Yes.”

But, despite her words, when they climb into bed together that evening, it’s awkward. Callen doesn’t like the feeling at all. He moves to wrap Nell in his arms and he’s alarmed to feel her stiffen up.

“Nothing has to happen if you don’t want it to,” he murmurs.

“No, I do, I just—“

He hushes her and just holds her, relieved when she relaxes against him.

The box remains unopened for the rest of the week.

* * *

“What do you mean Brockman isn’t involved?” Nell asks, perplexed.

Eric shrugs apologetically, his movements slightly delayed due to the video feed. “As far as I can tell, the money doesn’t lead anywhere near him. If he’s involved, he’s a lot smarter than he looks.”

“Then why did he come after me?”

“I don’t know but I was thinking about that.”

“And?”

Eric readjusts his glasses and sits forward. “What if it isn’t just the money?”

Nell blinks, confused. She’s about to ask him to clarify when she gets it. “Oh. Oh!”

“Yeah, uh huh?” he grins at her.

“Brockman and Stevens don’t have a good relationship,” Nell muses. “Stevens effectively screwed Brockman over, taking majority claim.”

“Right. So what if,” Eric leads. 

“There are actually two things going on here?” Nell finishes.

They raise their hands in unison and Eric nearly knocks the webcam off his computer.

“Okay, virtual high fives don’t really work,” he laments.

* * *

“Yes!”

Callen, in the living room, clearly hears Nell’s triumphant yell coming from the basement. He pokes his head in the doorway and calls down to her. “You found something?”

“Yes!”

When he gets to the bottom of the stairs, she’s spinning in her chair, arms raised up. He grins at the spectacle.

“I found the money!”

“You did?”

Nell jumps up from her chair and practically knocks him to the ground. “Yes, yes, yes!”

Her cheer is infectious and he responds in kind when she kisses him. Her hands tugging at his shirt surprises him.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes!”

His lips twitch. “Is that your word of the moment?”

Nell giggles and bites her lip. “Yes.”

“Okay. I can work with that.”

Nell is outright laughing, now. “Yes?”

“Maybe we should go upstairs.”

And then she does knock him down and Callen’s on the basement floor with Nell straddling his hips. “Or we could stay down here.”

“Yes,” she practically hisses, a gleam in her eye.

Different variations of the word are uttered from both parties for a long while.

Later that week, the box is not only open, but relocated to the basement and empty before the weekend is out.

* * *

“Why here?” Callen asks.

“Hmm?”

They’re in the basement on the big stuffed chair, Nell on his lap. Naked.

“I’m not complaining, but why down here?” he wonders.

“You mean and not up there?”

He nods, kissing her shoulder.

“Up there, we’re Norah and George. Here, we’re us.”

He thinks about it for a moment and nods. “That makes sense.”

“I guess I just feel like it’s not real if we’re playing the part of our aliases,” Nell says. “I know it’s irrational, but—“

“No, I get it,” he agrees. “Although I do find it kind of ironic that the actual married couple aren’t sleeping together.”

* * *

“Stevens?” 

Nell can’t help but smile at Callen’s confused expression.

“Yup. Eric came up with the idea that maybe the money wasn’t the only thing going on,” Nell explains.

“Oh.” A look of realization crosses his features. “Oh!”

“That’s what I said!”

“So, the money didn’t lead back to Brockman, but to Stevens?” he asks.

Nell nods enthusiastically.

“Then what’s Brockman’s deal? Why go after you, Wiles, and Pierce?”

“The data.”

Callen pauses. “You decrypted it.”

She wheels back to her workstation and Callen stands behind her, hands on her shoulders.

“Pierce actually has nothing to do with, well, anything,” Nell says. “Brockman only thought he did because he farmed out the work to Wiles and me.”

“So, Pierce is lazy,” Callen muses.

“Mmhmm, but Wiles was curious like I am and he figured out what the data transmissions actually were.”

“And?”

Nell taps a few keys and several pictures come up. “I give you: the Vertical Launching System.”

“And you can tie this back to Brockman directly?”

“Not only that,” Nell states, “but between Eric and I, we can link the previous deaths to him and contacts with al Qaeda cells he was trying to setup.”

“So, Stevens was embezzling money and Brockman was trying to sell the VLS plans to terrorists, but neither of them knew what the other was doing.”

“That’s about the gist of it.”

He squeezes her shoulders. “Nice work.”


	15. Chapter 15

The take down happens very fast. Once NCIS has all the evidence Nell and Callen have gathered, they raid Assets of the Future and apprehend Stevens, Brockman, Burke, and other key personnel. They're both relieved they didn't find anything to tie Terri to the embezzling or weapons system activities.

Pierce agrees to testify and, as he ultimately did nothing wrong, is released.

Mathieson also agrees to flip on his employer for a slightly reduced sentence. Unfortunately, it doesn’t help much. Murder is murder, but Mathieson is at least satisfied that if he’s going to rot in prison, so will Brockman.

Luckily, Brockman never did meet his potential black market buyers, so the VLS designs remain uncompromised. The money Stevens attempted to embezzle is also recovered and ultimately used to sell the company to another large contractor, retaining almost all the employees that had nothing to do with the crimes their leaders tried to broker.

After over six months of undercover work, NCIS Special Agent G Callen and Intelligence Analyst Nell Jones can go home.

* * *

They leave in the dead of night. NCIS personnel will take care of the house, but for Nell and Callen, they’ll drive—separately—to Los Angeles.

Nell is double checking she has everything in the car when Callen approaches her. He’s dressed casually—jeans and a t-shirt—and his hands are in his pockets like he’s unsure what to do with them. She pauses; she’s not used to seeing Callen like this.

He gestures at her car with his chin. “Got everything?”

“I think so,” she muses, poking her head in one last time before standing up straight.

In the time it takes her to check her things, he’s moved right next to her and she finds herself crowded against her car with his body. With one hand, Callen shuts the driver’s door and slides his other hand across her back, making her shiver. He kisses her soundly, eliciting a soft moan from her when his tongue runs across her bottom lip.

She isn’t sure how long they stay like that, lost in each other, but by the time they pull apart, they’re both breathing heavily and he’s pressing her flush against the car. At some point, she’s hitched a leg up on his hip and she can feel his hand behind her knee.

“If any of our neighbors are watching, they’re getting quite a show,” she murmurs against his lips.

“Pardon me if I don’t care,” he answers, lips brushing against her cheek.

Slowly, he drops her leg and steps away. He puts his hands back in his pockets.

“You okay to drive?” he asks.

“I’m good. You?”

Callen nods. He opens his mouth once, twice, but says nothing. Suddenly, he steps forward and takes her hand. “I guess I’ll see you bright and early for the debrief.”

“Absolutely.”

Their eyes lock and neither of them say anything because, for the moment, there’s nothing _to_ say. So, after a final kiss to his cheek, Nell gets into her car and begins her journey home.

Except, the further from Callen she gets, the more she feels like she’s driving in the wrong direction.

* * *

Callen’s been home, in his real house, for over two hours and even though it’s nearly five in the morning, he’s not the least bit tired. In fact, he’s even more worked up than when he arrived and he’s been pacing the entire house for almost as long as he’s been back.

It should feel familiar or comforting, but the house is none of those things. True, he hasn’t really made it a home, but there are memories from his childhood that are actually happy there. They’re just not doing anything for his current state of mind.

Sighing in frustration, he grabs his keys and heads out. He’s not due at the OSP facility for a few hours, but there’s nothing for him at home and maybe he can start in on some of the paperwork he knows he’ll have to fill out after such a long assignment.

* * *

The debrief lasts all day, made easier by all the notes Nell kept, but she’s mentally exhausted by the time she gets home. She’s lying on her couch, unmoving, when she hears a knock on her door.

She’s both surprised, yet not, to see Callen on her doorstep.

“Geo—uh—holy crap, what do I call you?”

Callen grins. “It’s weird, isn’t it?”

“Beyond belief,” she answers. 

Nell waves him in, barely suppressing the urge to wrap her arms around him. They hadn’t talked about what would happen once they returned home and now she feels extremely awkward with him in her living room, looking like he doesn’t want to be there.

“What can I do for you?” she asks.

When he turns to look at her, she’s pinned to the spot. Callen’s eyes seem impossibly blue and the intensity in them sends shivers right down her spine.

After a long moment, he finally speaks. “I’m sorry, I should have called first.”

“No, it’s fine,” she assures. “I mean, we lived together for a couple months. It doesn’t seem wrong, if that makes sense?”

He nods, but says nothing. Nell shifts on her feet.

“I was wondering,” he starts, “if maybe you wanted to grab a bite to eat?”

“Sure.” She doesn’t even think before she responds. The tension she hadn’t realized was in the air seems to dissipate as well and she’s glad to see him relax a little bit. A thought pops up in her head. “Wait, is this a date?”

Callen tilts his head in thought. “Yeah, it is.”

Nell thinks about it for a moment and then shrugs. “Okay. Let me grab my jacket.”

As they leave her apartment, she’s thrilled to feel his hand at the small of her back. She’s missed this closeness with him, but doesn’t know how to broach the subject. So much has happened between them but, because it was during a case and in a different location, it may as well have been in a different universe. Even though they’d told each other they weren’t pretending, something is still off, still not right.

It takes until halfway through dinner before they’re both comfortable enough to talk about their relationship.

“Is it just me, or does this date seem weird?” Nell blurts out.

“No, it is,” Callen responds. “I thought it was just me.”

“Why is this so hard?”

Callen shrugs. “I don’t know. It just is. We’re no longer on a case and trying to get back into our regular lives. That’s difficult enough as it is.”

“And then we have our relationship to boot.” Nell hesitates. “Do we have a relationship?”

“Nothing has to change,” he says, sitting forward and taking her hand in his.

“But I think it already has.”

“Then we’ll figure it out,” he says. “If you want to.”

Nell flashes him a smile, immensely relieved at his words. “I do.”

The rest of the meal goes by without incident and it’s almost like nothing has changed, just as Callen said. But then it gets awkward again when he pulls up to her building at the end of the night.

He walks her up to her apartment and she feels an odd sense of anxiety as she pulls her keys out and unlocks the door. Turning, she leans against it, looking up at him.

“Well.”

“Well,” he repeats.

They stare at each other in silence for a long moment and then he moves, leaning down to drop a kiss on her lips.

“Good night,” he whispers, lips brushing against hers.

The gesture is so tender, so sweet, and so not what Nell wants. She almost screams. Instead, she grabs Callen’s hand before he can step away.

“No.”

He arches an eyebrow at her. “No?”

Nell shakes her head decisively then tugs on his hand as she opens her door. She very nearly slams him up against it when it closes. He looks surprised, but also amused and a little bit turned on.

She reaches up and cradles his cheeks in her hands, pulling him down to her. She kisses him deeply, pressing into him.

When she pulls away, there’s no more anxiety, no more awkwardness between them.

“We were married and then we went on our first date,” Nell states. “I don’t want to go backwards anymore. I just want you. Do you want me?”

A smile spreads on Callen’s lips and she wraps her arms around him as he gathers her close. “I do.”

**The End**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you have it. :) 
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed it. I had a lot of fun writing this story. I seem to like writing Nell/Callen "origin" stories, as it were. Originally, for this year's Het Big Bang, I thought about writing a sequel to the one I wrote last year, but you know what? I kind of like leaving "Discovery" where it is. For now. Maybe I'll add more to it later. Maybe I'll add more to this.
> 
> There are some themes and things in this one that might seem partially formed. That wasn't intentional. Much like Nell and Callen, I don't think I really grasped just what I was getting into when I decided to write this story. You'd think I'd know better since I've done a big bang before (and "Discovery" is 7k words longer!), but it's amazing how much you forget (or possibly repress).


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